


Wandmaker of Death

by Emerys_Potter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dimension Travel, F/F, F/M, James Potter Lives, Lily Evans Potter Lives, M/M, Master of Death Harry Potter, Sirius Black Lives, Wandmaker Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-02-19 14:29:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 29,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13125627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emerys_Potter/pseuds/Emerys_Potter
Summary: The war was finally over and Harry had just started finding a life for himself away from the death and violence he'd experienced.  He had a interested career, close friends and now family with Andromeda and his godson Teddy.  Unfortunately his Potter luck struck and Harry finds himself in another universe, with new powers and a more established Voldemort wrecking the world.  As much as Harry would love to just go home, it turns out he can't until he defeats Voldemort again...so much for retirement from war.





	1. After the war

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Harry Potter, the Wizarding World and everything contained belong to J.K.Rowling. I do not receive any money for the fanfiction; it is purely for entertainment purposes.

“Can you bring out the unicorn hair that was delivered yesterday, Mr Potter?”

Smirking to himself at the sound of his persistently formal boss, Harry put the broom that he’d been sweeping with down and walked out the back to the storage area.  Despite the owner’s tidy and sharp mind their warehouse was a complete mess with no organisational system whatsoever; something Harry knew Hermione would go ballistic over.  Random assorted boxes littered the room, each of which was stacked haphazardly on the top of another.  The only desk in the entire stockroom was a small rickety one that was balancing several containers, one of which was labelled _‘Unicorn Tail Hair’_ in small narrow script.  Ignoring how the table and its contents had too much in common with the Leaning Tower of Pisa, Harry collected the unicorn hair and retraced his steps out.

“Here you go, Mr Ollivander.”  Harry said placing the container filled with silvery strands on the work table next to the aged wand-maker. 

“Thank you, Mr Potter.”  Ollivander mumbled running a shaky hand over the newly shaped oak wood, leaving Harry to return to his chores.

After the war was finished and the wizarding world was saved from Voldemort’s regime, Harry was at a loss of what to do with himself.  He had basically been building up to this moment his entire life and now it was over.  He had lost so much and didn’t know how to move on, each new possibility had seemed like the wrong one.  While he may have been having difficulties moving on and dealing with the senseless loss of friends and family, others didn’t have as much of a problem. 

Within three weeks of victory, the people elected Kingsley to run the new Ministry, Diagon Alley had been nearly repaired with many shops reopening their doors and McGonagall had already started on rebuilding Hogwarts from the final battle.  Knowing that he wasn’t the only one who’d felt loss in both wars, Harry was glad that everyone was starting to see hope in the future, including his friends.  After all it was hard to move on from the horrors of the past when the destruction was still right in front of you.

Ron and most of the senior members of the DA accepted Kingsley’s offer to become aurors and undergo a quick training period so they could become the new auror department.  Ron seemed a little peeved that Harry didn’t want to fight for the rest of his life but a helpful elbow or two from Hermione and he gradually accepted his decision.  Hermione on the other hand decided to find her parents, fix their memory and return before Hogwarts restarts for her seventh year.  Then there were the relationships, George proposed to Angelina, Neville started dating Ginny and even Mr and Mrs Weasley decided to renew their vows.  But to Harry, those kind of decisions didn’t feel right to him.  In his eyes it felt like they were rushing things too much.

It wasn’t until two weeks of living alone in Grimmauld Place and some intervening Weasleys that Harry found himself something to do.  It turned out that Ollivander was going to reopen his doors but needed to rebuild his supply of wands and at his age needed an apprentice to teach the trade to.  Having always been interested in wands since his fourth year when he and Hermione researched his wands connection to Voldemort, Harry accepted the apprentice position. 

Every day he would complete assigned chores, answer questions from future patrons of when the store will reopen and rebuild the store itself while his teacher would work hard creating new stock.  Harry didn’t mind the simplicity of the jobs as they allowed him to think and work through his issues, but the few hours before he finished each day was his favourite.  It was this time of day when Ollivander allowed him to practice making his own wands.  Harry could still remember his first practical lesson on practical wand craftsmanship. 

 

**_Flashback_ **

 

“You must concentrate, Mr Potter.”  Ollivander said as Harry sat crossed legged on the shop floor with his eyes firmly shut.  “Magic is in all forms of life, it’s in the flora, fauna and even the stars in the sky.  It is through the art of wands that we connect to this magic and our universe.”

Harry tried taking deep calming breaths as Ollivander suggested and reached out with his magic, feeling oddly naked having to do this without a wand. 

“To create a magical focus like a wand you must be able to see the spark of magic around you.  Each creature, wizard, witch and wand has a unique spark that we cater for.  Now with your eyes firmly shut…tell me what kind of magical spark is in my hand.”

Feeling only his irritation spark at having to do this with his eyes shut and therefore in darkness, Harry took another few calming breathes and tried to follow his masters advice.  Reaching out with his mind and magic Harry concentrated on the wizard in front of him and the wand he apparently held. 

After what felt like hours of sweating in the wand shop, Harry gasped as he suddenly saw it.  A bright green spark ignited in front of him swirling around playfully in a circle. 

“Ah, so you see it, Mr Potter.”  Ollivander declared quietly.  “Very good but can you tell me what kind of wand is in my hand?”

The elation of finally seeing a pure burst of magic and his theory lessons starting to finally pay off waned at the new request from his teacher.  Biting back the desire to tell him that the type of wand he was holding was a _magical_ wand, Harry kept his eyes closed and concentrated. 

“Is it Dragon-heart string and umm….English Oak?”

Ollivander chuckled playfully.  “No, Mr Potter.  Try again.”

Harry frowned.  He’d been sure he was right if not close.  From his theory lessons he knew that the green spark indicated that the wand was definitely dragon-heart string and the way the spark moved made Harry think of courage and his first thought was that of an English Oak that bonded well with gutsy wizards and witches.  As he was thinking back to his lessons whilst keeping a mental eye on the spark and trying to connect the two, Harry started giggling to himself. 

“Are you okay, Mr Potter?” 

Practically hearing the raised eyebrows in Ollivander’s tone, Harry pushed the odd desire to keep laughing back down with his irritation levels.  He wasn’t going to stuff up his first practical lesson when it hits him like a tidal wave.  “Yes…sorry I’m fine.  Is the wand dragon-heart string and Dogwood?”

“Open your eyes, Mr Potter.”

Harry gratefully opened his eyes and saw Ollivander holding out a beautifully polished Dogwood wand and offering him a proud smile.  “What made you think of Dogwood?”

“Well…the spark I saw was moving around in a kind of spirited manner, it changed speeds, direction and even shape a couple of times.  I first thought it meant courage but when I started laughing I realised it was Dogwood.  Does it always give off…feelings?”

“Not always, Mr Potter.  When you are attuned properly you might get feelings like laughter, anger, pride or perhaps you might even feel scared or jealous.  However, just like each witch and wizard are different so are wands and you won’t necessarily find the exact same responses for a Dogwood, dragon-heart string wand you got today again.  You have to piece the facts together and work it out for yourself.”

Feeling a slight headache build up behind his eye from trying to absorb the logic of Ollivander’s lesson, Harry just nodded his head in acceptance.

“Now I want you to describe the characteristics of Dogwood and dragon-heart string wands and the possible scenarios around their combination.”

****

**_End flashback._ **

****

From there Ollivander ran drills and scenarios like that first lesson every day, until he could feel the magic in a wand even from those he passed in the street.  From there he taught Harry to feel the elements of the wands so he wouldn’t combine materials what wouldn’t work together; an important lesson Harry discovered as he nearly blew his head off combining a heart string from a Hungarian Horntail with a willow wood. 

Like with the meditation to try and sense magic from his first practical lessons, it started off slow as all he did for the first few days was hold a piece of wand wood for hours or stare at a core element.  However slowly he began to feel the magical current to each of the cores and the woods he would use.

It was truly amazing, each prepared core felt slightly different to each other before they combined to make a wand.  Depending on the species of dragon, dragon-heart string had a powerful and deadly aura and seemed to vibrate with an internal energy that surprised Harry.  Prepared unicorn tail hair was so pure and white that it would put stars to shame and phoenix feathers were dazzling with their hidden power and the heat they produced. 

Harry had only created a handful of different wands so far in the short time he’d been working with Ollivander, but the old wizard was luckily very happy with each attempt.  He had even gone so far to call Harry a natural at the craft.  

“How’s young Mr Lupin going these days?”  Ollivander inquired softly drawing Harry out of his head and back to reality. 

Harry took a moment to watch the skilled practitioner carefully circle his hand over the box of unicorn tail hairs before extracting a single strand.

“Umm…fine thanks.  He’s a bit young to do much but giggle and squirm at the moment but he’s keeping Andy on her toes.”  Harry answered with a small smile. 

He always had trouble keeping a smile off his face when he thought of his godson.  During the war when they lost both Remus and Tonks, Teddy had become an orphan like Harry.  Thankfully instead of moving in with people like the Dursleys, he had Harry and his grandmother Andy.  While Teddy lived with his grandmother, Harry spent nearly all his spare time with him.  He really wanted to be there for Teddy in a way Sirius was never able to for him.

“How much longer do you think it’ll be before we can open?”  Harry asked into the still store knowing that Ollivander would hear him as he finished up sweeping the floor.

“Hmm…I suppose another few days as we’ve got enough wands prepared to open but I’ve got a few things to do before then.  Unfortunately I’ve got to make a personal trip to Scotland and pick up those blasted orders for Chinese fireball dragon-heart strings and ebony wood.”  Ollivander explained whilst hunched over his workstation.

Knowing how much Ollivander hated incompetent sources, Harry smirked to himself as he started wiping down the counters and shelves.  As much as Snape disliked Gryffindor and McGonagall hated cheating, Ollivander despised lazy or stupid contractors.  Sure enough Harry could hear Ollivander mumble to himself as he finished up a brand new wand.

“…lazy idiots…should pay them nothing…have to go down myself…”

After thirty minutes Ollivander had finished the last wand for the day and started heading for the fireplace to floo home.  Seeing where Ollivander was going, Harry chucked his cleaning supplies down and jogged over.

“I was w-wondering…if you’d mind…”  Harry started hating himself for sounding so scared but it seemed Ollivander didn’t see it quite the same way.

“Wondering if you could stay later and practice crafting on your own again?”  Ollivander finished with a chuckle and a knowing glint in his eye.  “Of course, Mr Potter.  If you place your work on the counter, I’ll evaluate them tomorrow morning and perhaps they can be up for sale in the reopening.”

Harry watched the amused wizard hobble over to the newly installed fireplace and disappear in a swirl of emerald flames.  The idea of someone buying and using one of his wands was incredibly exciting.  Without wasting much time Harry rushed over to the workstation Ollivander just vacated and started to work. 

He had just finished shaping the new wand, using Hermione’s original vine wand as inspiration, when a blinding pain in his head struck him.  The empty wand shell fell to the desk in a clutter as Harry grabbed his head as a fresh wave of torturous pain swept over him causing him to scream out in agony.  Darkness swam before Harry’s eyes as his head felt like it was going to tear itself in two, before the darkness took over and Harry knew no more.

 

**

 

Harry groaned weakly as he slowly sat up cradling his throbbing head, feeling like he had been repeatedly attacked by a savage pair of bludgers. 

“Thank you for gracing me with your presence.  Can you open your eyes for me, Master?”

Harry’s eyes snapped open at the unknown amused voice in front of him before forcing his aching body into a crouched defensive position.  On instinct his hand flew to his pocket for his wand but was met with nothing but air.  Whilst cursing quietly at being unarmed before a foe Harry shrewdly analysed the pale man in front of him.  He had wide sunken eyes, a large toothy grin and was wearing a large black cloak.  What was the most off putting however was his complexion; it was so pale it was practically translucent allowing Harry to see numerous veins cross-crossing themselves across his visage.

“Who are you?”  Harry demanded hoarsely.  He may not have his wand but he wouldn’t go down without a fight.  He had been told by the Minister only yesterday that some of the fugitive death eaters had returned to Britain and that they might target him in revenge for what he did to their lord.  Neville had already been attacked by a couple of low ranking death eaters who were now sitting in a cell deep within Azkaban with some truly odd scars that reminded Harry of the jaws from Neville’s personal Venomous Tentacula plant.

Rather than respond, the man in front of him just gave a cocky smirk as though he knew what Harry had been thinking.  Gritting his teeth at the man’s attitude Harry took subtle looks around trying to figure out where he was, while keeping the man in his field of vision.  It looked like a village or a wizarding town but there had obviously been a massive fight as there were numerous craters in the ground and the buildings were covered either in scorch marks or had large chunks blasted from them.

“I will only ask once more.  Who are you and where are we?”  Harry asked as his hands tightened into fists.

“We are in Hogsmeade Village, Mr Potter.”  The man croaked casually placing his hands behind his back.  “As for me…I suppose you may call me Death.”

Harry felt his eyes snap into ‘Death’s’ cold but smug grey eyes.  “D-Death?”

The man nodded.  “The tale of the three brothers, that Miss Granger informed you about when you were horcrux hunting, is very much true.  Which as the owner of all three hallows makes you the Master of Death.”

When he had asked his kidnapper those two basic questions regarding his identity and their location, Harry had been expecting many responses including an attack or some anti-muggle speech, but he was completely thrown by ‘Death’s’ words. 

“W-what are you talking about?”  Harry’s head hurt as he tried to decipher ‘Death’s’ words.

Death chuckled darkly causing the hairs on Harry’s neck to stick up.  “Basically I’m talking about the fact that try as you might, my hallows are now drawn to you.  And I’m talking about the massive spike in your magical abilities.”

‘Shit.’  Harry thought fiercely to himself.  After the Battle of Hogwarts when the wizarding world was finally safe from Voldemort, Harry noticed that his powers were somehow enhanced.  Even the most basic spells were suddenly overpowered.   Hermione after months of study had put it down to the hallows that continually followed him around but otherwise was at a loss to explain it.

Whilst Hermione was researching his increased spellpower, Harry spent his time trying to distance himself from the wand and resurrection stone at all costs.  Even when he snapped the wand in half and sunk the stone deep beneath Hogwarts Lake, both returned to him looking brand new barely ten minutes later.  After so long of being in the dark about the hallows and his new abilities, it turns out they might have their answer.

“I-I’m the Master of Death?”  Harry inquired dubiously quirking his eyebrows reminiscent to his wandmanship teacher.

“Yes.  I must say…” Death started as he slowly began circling Harry causing the wizard’s instincts to be thrown into overdrive.  “…I was certain for centuries that nobody would be able to achieve the status of Master of Death.  For most humans tend to be so scared and edgy over death.  But you, like your forefathers before you, seem to be able to see what death truly is.”

Now that Death had returned to his original place in front of him, Harry forced himself to look into ‘Death’s’ eerie eyes.  “And what is that?”

“As your old Headmaster would say…the next great adventure.”

Ignoring the renewed smirk on ‘Death’s’ face, Harry took a moment to try absorbing everything he’d been told.  His first instinct was that this guy was just a looney death eater and as he didn’t have a wand he had better try running for it.  However, there was too much evidence to ignore.  The only person alive that knew about the hallows or that his powers had suddenly grown was Hermione and he trusted her completely.  And even standing four metres in front of ‘Death’, Harry could feel the powerful dark aura that radiated from the man. 

“Okay so if you are Death.  Why bring me to Hogsmeade?  Surely you have better things to do than show me what some lone death eaters have done.”

Death nodded emphatically.  “Absolutely I do and whilst I could have brought you here and left, it seemed poor to do that to my master without giving some kind of explanation.  For you see I’ve brought you to a parallel universe from where you originated to achieve balance.  A large portion of what I do is to ensure balance between life and death, peace and violence.  And this universe has been plagued by death and violence for too long, _you_ must fix this and square the balance.”

Harry frowned at Death’s tone.  He had done his part, something that had taken so much from him and now Death was expecting him to do it again.  All that pain, all that loss suffocated him had and now that he had Teddy and his apprenticeship he could finally move on and have a life, a better and happier life.  Unfortunately Harry’s innate curiosity peaked at something Death said.  “What do you mean death and violence?”

“This is a universe where Harry James Potter was never born and the prophecy was never filled.  Tom Riddle has held the country by the throat for over forty years and has caused irreparable damage to this world; some species of magical creatures have become endangered, muggleborns are hunted whilst half-bloods aren’t treated much better.  It is your job as the Master of Death to defeat him and restore balance.”

Harry was gobsmacked.  Over forty years of constant war with Voldemort was practically unthinkable.  The war in his world was only a couple of years after Riddle’s rebirth, he couldn’t imagine what the bastard could do in thirty years.  If what he was being told was the truth, he couldn’t help feeling sad for this world but he wasn’t sure if he could do all that again.

“What about the Order?  Surely there must be people fighting against him?”  Harry asked internally begging for there to be some kind of group fighting Riddle.

Death smiled.  “Indeed.  The Order is alive and is a small rebellion hoping to topple Riddle’s regime.  But the light side of the war has had many losses and the Order isn’t what you know.  There have been many changes to the timeline here from what you remember of your own.”

“I truly feel for these people but I’ve gone through all of this already.  I’ve had my friends and family die for the cause and I’ve sacrificed my happiness and health to take Tom down once already.  I’ve got responsibilities back home and I won’t let him down.  Now tell me how do I get home?”

Feeling his blood pressure rising as images of his past rushed before his eyes, Harry took a few deep breaths knowing that losing his temper wouldn’t help him here.  Although it was hard to control it at the thought of leaving Teddy. 

Slowly Death’s head tilted before his now trademark smirk appeared on his creepy face.  “Teddy?”

Hearing his godson’s name whispered so creepily made Harry’s stomach crawl but he ignored it.  “How…did you read my mind?”

Death only shrugged his thin shoulders in response.

“Yeah Teddy...I won’t leave him alone like Sirius was forced to do to me.  He deserves a better life.  Now take me home.”  Harry demanded crossing his arms hoping he was coming off as intimidating.  Unfortunately it only made Death snort in amusement.

“How interesting my new master turned out to be…but you shouldn’t concern yourself with leaving your ward.  You won’t be here forever just until you help the Order destroy Voldemort.  The sooner you complete your task the sooner you’ll return to him.”

Knowing that this wouldn’t be forever certainly soothed his ire and it must have shown on his face as Death started grinning like a loon.

“Now that I’ve appeased your concern it is time for me to leave, just as you have new responsibilities as Master of Death, mine as Death can’t keep being delayed.  So shall we continue?”

Still feeling a little overwhelmed Harry just nodded his head to the powerful being before him. 

“Excellent.  Your job is to help end this war one way or another.  I’ve organised some accommodation for you whilst you find the Order and I suggest you keep your powers under wraps as much as possible.  You are still having trouble controlling your magic, are you not?”

Harry glared at Death not wanting to verbally confirm that he had perfect control of his magic until he ran into those bloody hallows. 

“I’ll take that as a yes then.  Use the time before you find the order to practise your magic for you shall need it.  Good bye master.”

Barely a second past after his farewell before Death faded into the shadows as though he was never there, leaving a black book bag in his wake.  Feeling that Death’s cold, vengeful aura had vanished along with its owner, Harry knew that he had truly left.  Not trusting his magic just yet to summon the bag that was obviously left for him, Harry walked over and snatched it out of the air.

 _“Leaky Cauldron.  Room under Mr Harry Peverell - number 27.”_   Death whispered sounding as though he was somehow still standing in front of him.

With a deep sigh and not knowing what else to do Harry took a deep breath and apparated to the Leaky Cauldron.

 


	2. Voldemort's Knights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Without having much time to get used to this new world where Voldemort had been running around for forty years, Harry recieved his first mission from Death. Before even getting to enjoy a nice breakfast he was expected to go save a member of the Order, protect basilisk eggs from Voldemort's henchmen and save Hogsmeade Village. 
> 
> Such is the life of Harry J Potter - The Master of Death and Wandmaker.

**Harry J Potter**

 

The Leaky Cauldron that Harry was used to was always brimming with life, as it always seemed to attract the most unusual patrons; Ron swore that he had once seen a one eyed hag with a baby hydra in her purse, but Harry had never really believed him.  Yet when Harry walked into the famous bar he was stunned to see it was entirely barren; there wasn’t a single person in the pub and judging from the dust and spider webs it wasn’t used to seeing any patrons. 

‘ _Even the magic in the air seems defeated and sad.’_ Harry thought to himself as he noticed small tendrils of grey magic float around lazily in the air like dust sinking to the ground.

Pushing his negative thoughts aside, Harry approached the bar wondering if Tom was still the owner in this world.  His question didn’t have to wait very long before a very weary Tom strolled out from behind some wooden barrels.  Feeling slightly better at seeing something or someone familiar, Harry gave the old barman a smile.  Tom was exactly how Harry remembered him, right down to his bald head and two missing front teeth. 

“What?” He grunted narrowing his normally kind eyes in distrust whilst wrapping a shabby brown cloak around himself.

Slightly taken aback at the tone of Tom’s voice, Harry cleared his throat to reply.  “Harry Peverell.  I believe you have a room booked for me.”

“You were meant to check in before four o’clock, so you could settle before curfew which starts in five minutes.”

Harry had no idea what kind of curfew Tom was referring to but with Riddle in charge it was probably some pressure to control half-bloods or muggleborns or something.  “Err…right…sorry but I got held up.  If you could please just show me to my room, I'm sure I'll make curfew.”

Rather than move to show Harry to his room, Tom stood completely still with his dull brown eyes focused on Harry.  Supressing the urge to squirm under Tom’s odd gaze Harry forced himself to stare back until he noticed the pale and weak white glow strapped to Tom’s arm.  Harry gasped aloud as he instantly analysed the magical signature of the light.

“What?”  The man repeated his suspicious eyes tightening. 

“Nothing.”  Harry lied quickly.  “Can I head up now?  It’s just that I’m really tired.  I’ve travelled a long way today.”

Tom gave a derisive snort before making his way from behind his bar.  “Follow me, Mr Peverell.  You only have five minutes remaining before curfew.”

Shaking off that weird experience, Harry gathered himself and followed the odd parallel of Tom up the shaky staircase to the third floor.  Each bedroom door they passed Harry could feel the heavy magical wards covering the door.  He wasn’t a master at wards like Remus had been but he could tell from the feel that they weren’t just blocking intruders.

Harry was a little troubled about what he noticed about Tom’s wand.  The Hawthorn, unicorn hair wand was damaged and from the broken light Harry saw, it was clear that the wand has also been forced to work for someone other than its proper owner. 

‘ _Which isn’t that surprising.’_ A smartarse voice in the back of his mind started.  ‘ _Hawthorn wands are ideal for owners with versatile magic and are great for powerful healing and deadly curses.  Tom is hardly the first pick someone would make for such a wand.’_

Berating the critical Malfoy-ish sounding voice in his head, Harry continued following Tom up to his room. 

When they finally reached their new room, Harry cautiously walked in and had a look around.  The Leaky Cauldron had never been a fancy place like exquisite muggle hotels or even the awe-inspiring Hogwarts but it had a sort of gentle homey feel back in his universe.  However his room looked as clean as a public men’s room; grime and dust covered nearly every surface, red goo ran down the back wall that reminded Harry of bile, and the shabby bed in the corner was only a single mattress on the floor with a thin pale blanket.

“Breakfast will be ready by nine tomorrow morning and remember that you must not leave your quarters for any reason until they lift the curfew at eight.”  Tom warned from the door before giving a final nod and disappearing from view.

Living in a dusty, narrow and filthy cupboard for the first eleven years of his life, Harry wasn’t a snob but the thought of staying the night in a room of this state made his stomach crawl.  It was a lot worse than the dusty Grimmauld Place in his fifth year.  Even the stale, horrid air seemed like it could kill.  Feeling he had little choice Harry knew he’d have to fix the place up a bit.

Taking a deep breath to make sure he was calm as possible, Harry pointed at the brittle grey floorboards that looked like they could give way at any moment. 

 _“Reparo.”_   Harry cast quietly with a flick of his wrist hoping that his new magical boost wouldn’t overdo his basic first year charm. 

Rather than simply repair the worn floor like he intended the wooden floor looked brand new, somehow even with a nice polish that would put Buckingham Palace to shame. 

Surprised but not entirely upset that he wouldn’t have to worry about tetanus from the old floor or risk falling through, Harry set to work fixing up the rest of the room.  A dozen cleaning charms and another repairing charm later the bedroom looked brilliant with every surface gleaming.  As Harry prepared himself for bed in the now clean bedroom, the new Master of Death hoped that in the morning he would have some ideas on how to survive in this new world.

 

**

 

The next day Harry got himself ready and left the room at nine o’clock for breakfast.  Rather than see the oddly petulant looking Tom with his breakfast, Harry saw a steaming bowl of soup sitting alone on a table in the middle of the pub.  Feeling slightly weirded out at this world’s Tom, Harry moved over to the table assuming that the soup was for him.  Upon sitting down before his breakfast Harry’s stomach churned violently at the rancid smell wafting off the soup.  The smell could only be described as a disgusting combination of Ron’s sweaty feet and troll snot. 

Not being able to stand the smell any longer, Harry banished the foul food with a casual wave of his hand.  Unfortunately at Harry’s vanishing spell it wasn’t just the food that disappeared but the bowl, cutlery and the table as well. 

‘Bugger.’  Harry thought to himself looking wildly around the room.

Seeing nobody around Harry quickly got up and moved the chair he was sitting at over to another table, hoping that Tom wouldn’t notice.

“Interesting magic trick there, Master.”

Harry swirled around to see a woman wearing Death’s long black robe with shiny silver stitching that covered most of her body and a patented smirk.  Like the man before this blonde haired woman had sickly pale skin that showed off each and every vein in her head. 

“Death?”

“Yes?”  Death replied with a chuckle but at Harry’s perplexed expression seemed to take pity on his confusion.  “As Death I have no real _body_ as I am more of a spirit than anything else.  So when I need to appear before people like yourself, I take the form of the last person to die.”

Somehow the thought of death walking around in the forms of the recently dead made Harry’s empty stomach lurch dangerously worse than Tom’s cooking could. 

“Are you here for a reason, Death?”  Harry asked wanting desperately to change the subject.

“Other than watching you attempt to control wandless magic you mean?”  Death taunted back as she started to play absentmindedly with a large hooked knife that had materialised in her transparent fingers.  “Yes, actually.  Voldemort’s minions have recently decided to have another raid upon Hogsmeade at ten o’clock today.  You must be there to stop them and save the few survivors from the last raid that call Hogsmeade home.”

“Didn’t they attack Hogsmeade village yesterday?”  Even though Harry didn’t know much about this world, other than its depressing timeline, it seemed odd to him that the deatheaters would attack the same place the very next day.

Death nodded.  “Yes, master.  But they didn’t find what they were sent for and Voldemort desperately wants them.”

At the rather mundane term _them,_ Harry is filled with sadness picturing numerous muggles or muggleborns hiding from Voldemort’s reach.  “Who’s them?”

“A few weeks ago the Order led their own raid on a magical researcher not far from the village who had managed to get her hands on five new basilisk eggs for Voldemort.  The raiders managed to get all five but were pursued into Hogsmeade by Voldemort’s henchmen.  The Knights attacked the villagers and their homes in the hopes of flushing out the Order’s raiders.”

Harry flinched hearing the story.  He may have defeated a grown basilisk when he was twelve but it was mostly luck and Fawkes that got him through it.  Now this world’s Voldemort might have another five at his fingertips.  Although one element of Death’s story confused him.  “What do you mean the Knights?”

“The Knights are what Voldemort call his death eaters in this universe; the brave and loyal knights who fight those who are against their Lord’s ideals.”

Harry snorted at the explanation.  “Anything else I should know before I charge in.”

“Yes.  Four of the eggs were safely smuggled out but before the fifth thief could escape the Knights erected anti-apparition spells and disabled the floo network around the village.  They are hiding underneath numerous secrecy spells and wards at the abandoned Honeydukes store.  You should bring the satchel I gave you; it’ll help on your quest.  Find them, save the innocents and protect the egg.” 

Without waiting for any more of Harry’s questions, Death vanished with a flick of her robes. 

Sighing at the turn his life has suddenly undergone, Harry trudged upstairs to get the bag Death gave him before apparating to Hogsmeade to prepare.  It wouldn’t be long until the Knights arrived.

 

***

 

With a loud crack Harry appeared in the centre of what remained of the once popular wizarding village.  Harry loved coming to Hogsmeade while he was at Hogwarts, it may not have been as lively as Diagon Alley but there was a magic to the village that seemed to remove the pressures of study and encouraged a bit of relaxation and fun.

Now the village looked desolate and broken, as though someone unleashed a dragon which stomped around breathing fire everywhere.  It only turns out that instead of a dragon it was the Knights of Voldemort.

As the sound of repeated apparition filled the air, Harry quickly dove behind the charred exterior of a now uninhabitable building just in time to catch his first glimpse of the Knights.  Over fifteen wizards wearing bottle green battle robes with intricate black stitching strode into the village centre.  Apparently now that Voldemort was in charge, his minions didn’t have to wear masks to hide their shame but that gave Harry an advantage.  While he didn’t recognise the arrogant leader or the sickly cross shaped scar that ran over his left eye, Harry did recognise some of his underlings; McNair, Pansy Parkinson, Dolohov, Theodore Nott and Nott senior were all there with their wands drawn ready to go.

Ignoring the assortment of color the Knights wands gave off, Harry started working on a plan.  His spells might have had a boost but he wasn’t unbeatable.  Choosing to channel his logical best friend momentarily, Harry knew that he had a better chance to picking them all off one at a time when it came down to it but the Order member needed saving first. 

With his plan to find the egg thief and secure them first before taking down the dea-Knights Harry set off.  Having spent so much time in his Hogsmeade he knew that the sweet shop Honeydukes was only a few buildings to his left.  Making sure that his enemies were focused away, Harry took off from behind his hiding spot using the buildings as cover as he ran with his satchel over his shoulder.

As the lolly shop was slightly out of view from the village centre, Harry crept into the shop from the front door.  Inside the shop looked more like the Shrieking Shack than the vibrant lolly shop Harry remembered. 

“Err…hello?”  Harry whispered feeling foolish as he squinted around the shop.  His first view around the room didn’t yield any results but just as he was contemplating trying the basement, Harry noticed a flicker of magic out of the corner of his eye. 

Feeling confident that he found the thief magically hidden under some old boxes in the back corner of the room, Harry double checked out of the filthy windows for signs of patrolling Knights before moving further into the room so he wouldn’t be seen from outside as well. 

“Umm…I’m here to help the Order.  I know you’re there and what you’re hiding but we need to move fast.  We are probably surrounded by now and if we wanna get out of here we don’t have time.  We’ve gotta move.”  Harry explained as quickly and quietly as possible.

Half expecting the thief to jump up and say ‘Let’s go’, Harry’s blood ran cold when the only sound came from the front door behind him.  It turned out that Knights could see better than he could through the dirty shop’s windows.  He was caught.

“Well well well…which of the pathetic Order have I caught here?”  A cocky voice called out behind him. 

With Moody’s reflex training from the war reminding him to never keep your back to the enemy, Harry spun around quickly to see an ugly bald headed man sneer at him whilst pointing a pale yellow wand at his chest.  Quickly deducing that the Larch wand in his enemy’s hands is not ideally suited for duelling, Harry felt better knowing at least it could have been worse if the Knight had a martial wand.

“Potter?”  The man asked, his muddy eyes dancing with malicious glee as they darted to Harry’s bag.  The stranger’s reaction to seeing his face caused Harry to internally swear repeatedly at his stupidity.  He was in a different universe, and should have thought to have some kind of disguise. 

“Can’t believe I’ve finally caught, Potter!”  The man crowed victoriously as his wand started to slightly spark.  “All the pain you’ve caused us Potter and when I take you in to see our Lord I’ll be heavily rewarded.  Now give me the bag!”

Seeing the man’s wrist start to move as though signalling an upcoming spell, Harry fell back on instinct and flung his hand out. 

_“Crucio!”_

“ _Protegro.”_

Before the Knight’s torture curse could hit its target, a large blue shield erupted in front of Harry and shielded its caster from harm.  Normally the blue shield spell when properly cast is roughing the size of the caster, but Harry’s curved from the floor to the ceiling and seemed extremely thick.  Attempting to stifle a laugh at the shock covering his enemy’s face, Harry lowered his hand as the determined Knight continued his assault with little luck.

_“Bombarda Maxima!”  “Infinite!”  “Reducto!”  “CRUCIO!”_

No matter what the man tried each spell was absorbed quietly by the massive blue shield that seemed to grow in intensity at each colorful spell cast at it.  Knowing that this buffoon of a Knight would end up giving them away, Harry accepted that he would have to step up and take the offensive. 

Before he could murmur a spell a soft voice whispered in his ear.  _“Use your wand.  It will help control your wayward magic and will always come to you when you need it most.”_

Hating how Death whispering in his ear made him feel like he needed to take a shower, Harry flicked his wrist and was shocked to see the Death wand materialise in his hand.  Not wasting anytime, he brandished the wand in front of him.

_“Stupefy!  Incarcerous!”_

The knight not expecting the sudden attack just stared wide eyed as the red spell hit its target, completely ignoring Harry’s shield spell, and the conjuration spell wrapped the stunned Knight tightly in thick rope.  It was then that his earlier blue shield melted away, as though it had sensed its purpose was no longer needed.

“How’d you do that, James?” 

Harry turned back around to see a shocked Seamus Finnigan leaning against the wall with a large grey egg held tightly in his grasp.  Seamus was wearing dark crimson robes with a deep hood and was completely covered in bruises, dust and scratches.  Meeting his eyes, Harry watched as Seamus squared his shoulders instantly became more cautious and on edge. 

“You’re not James.”

Hearing his father’s name used casually like that instantly filled him with excitement and worry.  If Seamus thought he was James Potter like that Knight had, it must mean that James Potter is alive in this universe.  The only down side was Harry didn’t know if he was ready to face the double of his dead father. 

“I’m not this James.”  Harry stated as calmly as possible deciding to focus on the issues in front of him and worry about running into James Potter later.

Completely thrown that Seamus was one of the thieves sent for such an important mission, Harry grinned at the other worldly version of his old classmate.  The Seamus Harry knew was a jokester and Quidditch fan to the end, so it was weird seeing the hard, disbelieving man in front of him.  They two were practically identical from each other except this Seamus had a couple of purple scars underneath the grime and scratches.

“How’d you do that?  Why do you look like James Potter?”

“Luck.”  He replied with a grin choosing to ignore that last question and hoping that Seamus would take the bait and drop it.  Unfortunately ‘luck’ wasn’t on his side if he wanted Seamus to be silent. 

“You cast a shield without a wand that was able to deflect the cruciatus curse!”  Seamus rebutted obviously not liking Harry’s answer. 

Seeing the familiar determined look in the Irish wizard’s eye to his old friend, Harry grew impatient.  “We don’t have time for twenty questions!  We have to get you out of here and we are completely surrounded.  Can you apparate?”

Obviously agreeing with Harry’s assessment of the situation, Seamus shook his head.  “No.  They have anti-apparition shields up and the floo system has been shut down in town.” 

Harry was about to point out that there must be weaknesses in the shields as he was able to apparate in when Death stopped him.  _“They can’t know who you are yet.  The average witch or wizard can’t penetrate such shields and wards but you aren’t the average wizard, are you?”_

“Can you at least help fight our way out?”  Harry inquired running his hands over his face. 

Seamus snorted tightening his grasp on the basilisk egg.  “Of course not.  I don’t have a wand.” 

Harry gaped at Seamus, having trouble believing that story.  Instantly Harry entered the mental trance-like state that Ollivander told him about and noticed that other than a small fizzing light coming from Seamus’s chest, there were no other magical artefacts on him.   “How can you not have a wand?  You were hiding under powerful wards and charms!”

“Order secrets.”  Seamus answered with a frown scratching at something on his chest with his other hand. 

Not having time for this, Harry strode over to the stunned Knight and picked up his wand before chucking it at Seamus.  “Take this.  It may not work great for you but if you stick with basic defensive spells and not do anything flashy you should be okay.”

Seamus caught the wand in shock as he experimentally grasped the magical focus in his hand.   “You’re giving me a wand?”

It was Harry’s turn to frown at a question having no idea why he asked something so stupid.  “Course.  It’s not right for you but that Larch wand will do you well enough.  We both need to get out of here and we stand a better chance if you’re armed.”

Seamus barely acknowledged Harry’s statement before staring at the wand in his hand with wide excitable eyes. 

Preparing to walk over and hit Seamus upside the head, Harry had a sudden sickening thought.  Death said that there were people still in Hogsmeade so if he left with Seamus, the Knights could come and burn the village to the ground and slaughter any remaining villagers.  He couldn’t go with Seamus.  He had to stay behind and save as many as he could.

“Actually, you’re gonna have to go ahead without me.”  Harry stated drawing Seamus’s eyes away from the stolen wand to his tired face.  “I’m gonna stay here and try and evacuate as many villagers as I can.” 

Seamus opened his mouth to obviously argue Harry’s point, before looking awkward and looking away.  Harry smirked seeing the conflicted look on his ex-roommates face; it was very similar to the way he flushed redder than the Gryffindor lion at Harry when he tired apologising for not believing him in their fifth year about Voldemort’s return.

“As we’ve gotta split up, I think your best way out is portkey.”  Harry explained not liking Seamus’s chances with the egg if he had to make a run for it alone.  “Can you cast one?”

With a flush emerging on his face Seamus shook his head mumbling about advanced magic.  Not seeing another way Harry looked him in the eye.  “Do you trust me to cast the charm?”

Looking very hesitant and tired, Seamus opened and closed his mouth conflicted in his decision when a loud explosion rattled the old shop.  Hearing the cruel laugher in the background Harry knew that his time was up.

“Time’s up.”  Without letting Seamus reply, Harry quickly pointed his wand at the other teen’s shabby muggle shoes.

“ _Portus.”_ Harry cast with a clear picture of the abandoned Leaky Cauldron in his mind.  As the shoes instantly glowed blue their owner’s mouth opened and closed many times making him look more fish-like than wizard.  Before Seamus could utter a word, he vanished in a swirl of blue and white light in five seconds flat.

“One problem down, fifteen to go.”  Harry muttered to himself as he prepared for battle.

 

 

 

**Albus Dumbledore**

 

Albus Dumbledore has been called many things in his lifetime, Leader of the Light, Headmaster, Professor, Brother and Public Enemy no.1.  Yet he’s never been called patient or a fool.  Seeing the darkness that was Riddle setting his sights on the wizarding world decades ago, Dumbledore started planning a defence but he didn’t see it soon enough.  His organisation known as ‘The Order’ was the last line of defence against Voldemort’s cruel and wide sweeping regime. 

He had roughly fifty-five active agents throughout the Order in varying roles, he had nine large safe houses setup under impenetrable wards and even organised a make-shift school for any children they were able to save.  It was a terrible shame that Riddle had taken over Hogwarts but Albus kept telling himself that he’d free the wondrous school one day.  For now the Hogwarts Academy attached to the safe house in London would have to do. 

Even though Albus had managed to construct nearly ten havens for their allies and agents, most lived at their official headquarters in Longbottom Manor.  Albus was incredibly grateful that Frank and Alice Longbottom had offered their ancestral manor to the Order as headquarters because the ancient wards were amazingly complex.  They stretched out for miles in all directions from the manor, giving them plenty of room to live and plan safely.   However, for each and every win they had over Voldemort, they had five losses. 

In recent years, the Knights have grown more aggressive than ever before and using spells so dark that it would make Grindelwald gasp.  They’ve lost so many good people in this senseless war and Dumbledore knew that they wouldn’t be the last.  The Order’s last mission was to capture five basilisk eggs before they could be used against them but the plan didn’t go as smoothly as they’d hoped. 

Originally he had wanted to send James Potter, Alastor Moody, Elphias Doge, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin to retrieve the eggs.  Unfortunately a few hours before they were meant to leave Elphias was attacked by three Knights on the way back from doing Gringotts business for the Order.  He had been a friend to Albus and the Order for years but he knew that he’d have time to grieve for his friend later.  The mission needed to go ahead.  In the end he allowed Alastor to take one of his trainees instead – Seamus Finnigan.  Even though Alastor insisted that young Finnigan would be fine for his first mission, Albus wasn’t sure and now it seems like he was right.

From reports that Dumbledore was given it seems that everyone agreed Finnigan hadn’t been fast enough apparating away; he’d been distracted and tripped over his own feet at the wrong time.  Thrown out of his thoughts, by the sound of his members yelling outside his door, Dumbledore waved his hand to wandlessly open the door. 

“Come in.” 

Instantly three people began filing in and sitting around the large rectangular table in the middle of the Longbottom study, which Albus regularly commandeered as his office.  Looking around the room he could tell that nobody was happy about the turn of events.

“What are we going to do about Finnigan, Dumbledore?”

Albus looked over to the Order’s only werewolf, seeing deep concern in his golden eyes.  “There isn’t much we can do, Remus.  I had Emmeline go over and scout the area an hour ago.  The Knights have had the place under lock down all night and the anti-apparition wards are still present with the only homes that had fireplaces destroyed.”

Seeing Remus’s hands tighten in anger Albus shot the man a sympathetic look.  Remus had personally trained many of the older students and his wolf saw them in many respects as pack.  Knowing that one of them is in grave danger wouldn’t be easy on Remus.  Albus smiled warmly when he saw the shaggy haired wizard on Remus’s left place a comforting hand on the wolf’s shoulder.

“We have to storm the village.”  Moody declared in a final tone to Albus’s right. 

The shaggy haired wizard snorted.  “ _Great_ idea, Moody.  We’ll fly in, stab the Knights and fly away with the damsel and the prize.”

Moody’s one good eye narrowed dangerously whilst the other electric blue one spun around its socket.  “Shut it, Black!  We need to get the egg to safety and we should go back for Finnigan.  I’ve never left a man behind!”

Letting Moody rage on about time working against them and Sirius demanding a plan before going in, Albus reviewed both arguments.  Unfortunately what it came down to was that the egg must never fall into Voldemort’s hands and he couldn’t leave such a young agent to die. 

“Sirius…” Albus called out just as the man in question’s face grew red as he prepared another line to fling at his one legged sparring partner.  “I can see both your points but Alastor is right.  We don’t have time and we must save both the egg and Mr Finnigan.  Gather our forces…anyone who’s available and properly trained.  We may not have time for a plan but I want safety in numbers.”

 

 

 

**Harry J Potter**

 

Harry gently pushed open the door and crept outside.  With his wand in hand Harry cast a quick notice-me-not charm over himself before heading off.  From the sound of screaming and explosions he could tell where roughly his fifteen enemies would be; if there’s violence there’s death eaters.

Turning a corner from behind a house Harry noticed three unknown dea…Knights walking along the main street.  Seeing the perfect opportunity with all their backs to him, Harry sent out three fast stunners which toppled their targets in a heap.  Not wanting to take chances of them waking up and warning the others, Harry tied them up with the incarcerous spell before placing the notice-me-not charm over their bodies. 

Moving on Harry crept forward only to see a massive Knight rush out of a building with one hand around a woman’s throat and his wand at her temple. 

“You’ll regret defying our Lord.”  He boomed out before laughing hysterically in the crying woman’s face. 

Seeing the woman’s face grow deathly pale as the Knight’s hand squeezed her airway, Harry quickly jumped into action.

“ _Relashio!”_  

The jinx hit the beast of a man with such a force that it caused him to drop her with a pained shout as though her skin was on fire.  The man with wand in hand turned to face Harry with hatred lining his face whilst the woman ran back into her house. 

“Potter!”  He snarled.

Realising his mistake was shouting the spell and drawing attention to himself, Harry threw a stunning spell at the man who jumped out of the way.  The notice-me-not charm only works to deflect attention, it’s not proper invisibility. 

“ _Confringo!”_ The man screamed before setting loose a barrage of hexes and curses.  Harry carefully stepped around his spells whilst weaving his own defensive and offensive magic.  While the man wasn’t powerful enough to concern Harry, his unorthodox duelling style was making him a harder foe. 

Unfortunately all the man’s shouts had alerted his comrades that something was amiss and four others including Pansy and Theo rushed in casting their own dark magic into the mix.  The air between Harry and the Knights was practically humming as multi-colored spells flew through it.  As an organ banishment curse caused him into back-breaking limbo position, Harry knew he had to end this.  Taking a calming breath to keep in control, Harry cleared his mind and fell into his war mindset.  Whilst using various shields and dodging to avoid his opponents attacks, Harry analysed them for weaknesses. 

Pansy and Theo were clearly newbies and overconfident in their spellcasting if their large wand flourishing were anything to go off and therefore smaller threats.  Deciding to deal with the other three first, Harry pointed his wand at his original target.

_“Levicorpus!”_

Even though the man threw up a shield charm, the jinx flew right through it and blasted him across the village and into small wooden shack.  Not giving time for the others to regroup, Harry turned to the other more experienced duellers and quickly used the Oppugno jinx causing large pieces of stone and wood debris from a nearby building to pommel the witch and wizard repeatedly until they were unconscious at Pansy and Theo’s feet.

Despite the fear on the two Slytherin’s faces, to their credit they stayed and continued fighting.  Not wanting to drag the fight out, Harry dodged a bone-breaking curse and used the banishing charm to knock Pansy to the ground before stunning her and then repeating the procedure on Theo.  With this group defeated Harry started to move away before giving them a cruel smirk. 

“ _Epoximise.”_

Hearing a soft squelching sound signalling that the transfiguration spell had taken affect and glued the Knights to the ground, Harry moved further into the village.

 

 

 

**Sirius Black**

 

The Order had just appeared on the outskirts of Hogsmeade Village ready to leap into action.  While Sirius would’ve preferred having a plan because they had learnt from experience running in without one can be costly, he was also secretly excited to swoop in and stop Riddle’s plans.

“Ready?”  Sirius whispered eagerly to Remus who was staring down at him in amusement. 

“We have to wait, Sirius.  Once Albus signals us we can go, everyone needs to be ready not just us.”

Sirius just huffed at the amused looking Remus.  As they weren’t going to go in with a plan, he didn’t see the point of sitting around waiting any longer.  The twenty strong operation team that Sirius and Remus had managed to gather at short notice would surely be ready by now.  None of them were newbies at this.

With a mischievous grin, Sirius turned to Remus. “What about now?”

“No, Sirius.  Just wait.”

“Oh…what about now?”

“Padfoot, I’m warning you…”

“What?  I just wanna know if we can go now?...Soooo can we?”

“Sirius, I swear…”  Remus growled his gold eyes flashing dangerously until a loud explosion from the village centre caused the playful fight to die and the two marauders to glance at each other.

“Now.”  They said in unison drawing their wands and running into the village.

As they ran in keeping to the buildings and shadows as much as possible to avoid being seen by the Knights, the pair proceeded further into the village.  Sirius had been expecting Hogsmeade to be completely overrun by Knights looking for the last egg but they had yet to see even one person. 

“DIE, POTTER!”

Hearing his best friends name Sirius sprang into action and took off down the street with Remus on his heels neither caring about subtly.  During the war Sirius choose to leave his evil pureblood family and add his magic to the Order in the hopes of banishing the bastard Voldemort from the face of the Earth.  By turning his back on many of his childhood friends and relatives, Sirius was left alone except for his two friends Remus Lupin and James Potter.  As far as he was concerned they were both his family and he’d do whatever it took to save them.

Expecting to see James in some form of trouble against a Knight, Sirius and Remus stood on the edge of the village centre completely in shock.  Three Knights were stuck to the roof of The Three Broomsticks in a ton of green looking slime and a few feet away from them was Edward Selwyn whose arms and legs looked like they had been exposed to an overpowered engorgement charm leaving the infuriated wizard unable to move and cast spells.  Yet the real wicked event was happening in the dead center of the village.

A very relaxed looking James was duelling Augustus Rookwood and Corban Yaxley with relative ease; it was almost like he was dancing around the deadly and painful curses and hexes without a care in the world.

“Come on let’s get in there.”  Sirius said only to be held back by an insistent Remus.

“That’s not James, Sirius.”

“YOU BASTARDS ARE ALL GONNA DIE!  OUR LORD IS…” Selwyn screeched madly from his pathetic position in the mud before Sirius lazily flicked his wand silencing the wizard.

“…Of course that’s James.”  Sirius scoffed as though he hadn’t been interrupted.

He didn’t know what was wrong with Remus but he would know his best friend anywhere.  Besides who else looked _exactly_ like James Potter and would be fighting the Knights.

“No…it’s not.  I can smell him and that man duelling is not the same one we had breakfast with Padfoot.”

Not liking the feeling of leaving James or even a James look-alike in a duel against Knights, Sirius grit his teeth and sank back into the shadows with Remus.  It wouldn’t be the first time that they tried tricking them in a similar fashion and with his enhanced senses Remus could see through nearly any enchantments.  If he said that the man fighting isn’t their best friend…he’d trust him.  But he wouldn’t like it.

Sirius watched the not-James trade spells back and forth with the determined crazy Knights, silently cheering him on.  A few times Remus had to put his sweaty hand over his mouth to muffle his cheering, but it wasn’t his fault the stranger definitely knew his stuff. 

“Where do you reckon the other Order members are?”  Remus asked as they watched not-James transfigure Yaxley’s wand hand into a tree stump.

“Pfft…where do you _think_ they are?  Hiding and watching the show like us.”  Sirius retorted playfully with a muffled laugh as Rookwood was blasted off his feet by an orange light.

“Whoa…wasn’t that the disarming charm?”  Sirius asked. 

Remus nodded in confirmation not taking his hawk-like eyes from the battle in front of them.  “It was just a very powerful one.”

“Oh no.”  Remus sighed sadly.

Sirius shared his friends worry as a smug looking Knight with long blonde hair sauntered up behind not-James with his wand aloft.  Even though Remus made it clear that it wasn’t James who was fighting, the Order had lost too many allies in the war and Sirius wouldn’t let it happen again; especially to a wizard with not only a sense of humor but a lot of duelling skill.

Before Sirius could scream out a warning, not-James pointed his wand at his feet.

 _“Spongify_.”

Instantly not-James was launched into the air and while using the element of surprise written on the Knight’s stupid faces he stunned the three of them with multiple flicks of his wand before landing heavily on his two feet.

“Wow.”  Sirius whispered not bothering to hide his awe. 

 

 

 

**Harry Potter.**

 

Not hearing any more screams or delusional knights stomping around, Harry dusted himself off and let go of his wand.  Rather than hit the snow beneath his feet the wand vanished inches from the ground.

Looking around at the destruction that had befallen Hogsmeade, Harry felt a little guilty for not being more careful with some of this spells.  After all one of his spells had knocked a knight into a house and demolished what was left. 

Deciding that he would spend a bit of time magically repairing some of the town for the villagers who’d been through enough, Harry started wandlessly repairing the nearest house.

 

 

 

**Sirius Black**

 

If he wasn’t completely thrown by not-James before with his elegant and impressive duelling, he certainly was now.  At first he panicked seeing the green flame spontaneously erupt but when a blue blanket flew out, it was obvious what it was only he couldn’t explain it.  Floo powder needed a connected fireplace to operate, it was impossible for it to work outside in the street.

“W-what do you reckon, Moony?”

“I’m at a loss but I doubt that whoever he is, he’ll be a danger to us.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow at his nerdy friend.  “Are you saying that because you actually believe he is on our side…or is it because you want to ask him about color changing goo he used to glue a couple of Knights to a roof?”

Remus narrowed his eyes at him as he failed to hold in a gleeful cackle at Moony's face before holding up his hands in a surrender position.  “Alright I reckon your right and I’m sure that Dumbled…”

Sirius paled as he saw Moody and four other Order agents sneak up closer to not-James out of the corner of his eye.  Judging from their hunched forms and slow steady footsteps he knew they were moving under subtly charms and with not-James facing the other way he’d never see the coming.

“Shit.” 

At first he wanted to apparate over to the kid and warn him but he was certain that the wards were still in place preventing that; Dumbledore mentioned that it would take them hours to take them down without the Knights persistent and shitty presence.  Deciding to run of impulse he turned to Remus with a mischievous grin. 

“You hold them back while I get the kid.”

Without waiting for Remus’s logical reply, Sirius ran out from his hiding place and headed straight for not-James.  Looking over his shoulder he saw Remus with his wand pointed at Moody, Tonks, Jones and Charlie and four furious faces as they tried to break the ice that had crawled up their feet and now had enveloped their legs.

Not bothering to hide his existence Sirius ran towards the boy knowing that Remus couldn’t hold back the others very long and he then there were other Order agents around.  Before he could get within arms distance not-James spun around with his wand pointed at his head.  Sirius was stunned at just how close this stranger resembled James; the kid had it all - the same nose, jaw and even the Potter trademark wild hair.  The only difference was the stunned and watery emerald eyes that seemed so torn and broken that it pulled at Sirius’s heart strings.

 

**Harry Potter**

 

He couldn’t believe it…Sirius was alive.  Flashes of memory that haunted his nights for many years appeared before his eyes.  Thanks to Remus and his best friends Harry had partially accepted that it wasn’t his fault what happened to his godfather but in his heart he knew better. 

Releasing his wand and letting it disappear, Harry rushed to wipe his traitorous eyes and cleared his throat dramatically.

“Can I help you?”  Harry asked hating how soft and unsteady his voice still was. 

“Umm…hey.”  The Sirius double ganger said awkwardly biting lips.  “Err…I’m here with The Order and was wondering if you’d like to come with us.  We saw what you did and we can offer you a warm and safe place to sleep.”

 _‘You knew that the Order was here didn’t you?’_ Harry thought to himself hoping Death could pick up on it and his unhappy tone.  If Death knew that they were here, the least he could do was warn him before he ran into dead loved ones or show off too much magic.

‘ _Of course I knew, Master.’_

Biting his tongue Harry took a few deep breaths to steady himself.  He’d always imagined what he’d say if he could speak with Sirius one last time but this wasn’t his Sirius and wouldn’t understand why Harry was begging for his forgiveness.

“You wanna take me in?  Aren’t you worried I’m a Knight?”  Harry asked allowing the Death wand to vanish from his hand.

Sirius chuckled.  “I doubt it.  It is _really_ unlikely that the Knights would go so far to publically humiliate themselves in public just to get someone on the inside of The Order.  I mean your choice of human transfiguration on Yaxley was _awesome!_ The only thing bigger than their egos is the moon.  Nar…I reckon you are on our side and just need a safe place to crash.”

Harry felt his heart warm hearing the Sirius before him sound so much like the man he lost during his fifth year.  When he first saw him a part of him was worried that he would be harsher or darker than what he remembered like Tom or Seamus had been.  Thankfully it appeared as though he was wrong.

“I-if you’re offering me sanctuary I’d be foolish to turn it down.”

Sirius’s face cracked into a wide smile.  “Excellent!  Now I’ll take you back to headquarters as soon as we find our missing agent.”

“Oh you mean Seamus?  He’s not here anymore.”  Harry revealed before he could stop himself.  He could kick himself at his choice of words, it could be misconstrued. 

“What the hell does that mean, _boy_?”

Harry startled and turned to see over seventeen people behind Sirius with a pissed off Mad-Eye Moody leading the charge.

From personal experience from the Moody back home, Harry knew that snapping back at the aged wizard wouldn’t get him far.

“I mean that I found Seamus hiding over there in Honeydukes.”  Harry replied jabbing his thumb over his shoulder at the run down shop behind him.  “As he needed to get out as quickly as possible as the Knights had already arrived by the time I did, I used turned his shoes into portkeys.”

“Where is he?”  Moody growled tightening his hand on his staff. 

From the mass of people in front of him Harry could tell that only a couple were wielding undamaged wands, so if they suddenly turned on him thinking him an enemy he was confident he could defend himself.  One of those people was Moody whose walking staff emitted a sparkling yellow light.

“Leaky Cauldron.  Room number 27.”

With a small grunt, that Harry supposed was meant to be some kind of order, six of the Order members turned quickly retraced their steps obviously to a place they could apparate and recover Seamus.

When they were gone Moody’s eyes narrowed dangerously.  “Dumbledore will want this kid back at headquarters for questioning.  Seeing as you’re so _interested_ in protecting the unknown Sirius, why don’t you take him back?  The rest of us will stay back to capture and transport the defeated Knights for interrogation.”

“Great idea, Moody.”  Sirius decreed happily striding towards Harry.  “Why don’t you help me, Moony?”

Seeing Remus Lupin walk up to them with an accompanying sullen glare from Moody Harry felt his heart crack for the second time today.  Sure it was emotional seeing people in the order that had passed like Moody but it was different when they were practically family.

‘ _Why can’t I have a normal life for once.’ He moaned to himself._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> QUICK POLL: Would you prefer to see a Harry/Draco fic or Harry solo or Harry/and someone else? Leave your answer below in the comment section.


	3. The New Order

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is escorted to Longbottom Manor by Remus and Sirius to meet the Order and explain his past. How will Harry deal with seeing the faces of those he saw die or those lost from fighting in the final battle? By the end Harry isn't sure if he wanted to punch Death or thank him but either way, getting accepted by the Order is his next step towards defeating snake face.

**Harry J Potter**

As Sirius and Remus escorted him out of Hogsmeade Harry took another calming breath.  He didn’t know if he could handle seeing anymore dead friends or family.  The pain of their death the first time was awful and seeing them again only brought it all back.

‘ _What a negative way to view this situation, Master.”_

‘ _Did I ask for your opinion?’_   Harry bite back as he and his guards reached the village’s border and headed out into the surrounding forest.  With unpleasant flashes of the hordes of Deatheaters and werewolves emerging from this forest during the war, Harry briefly hesitated before catching himself and pressing forward completely missing the flicker of concern on Remus and Sirius’ faces.

‘ _No.’_ Death cackled.  ‘ _But as you are feeling a little emotional let me spin your situation for you.  You may have lost some people but they will always be with you.  People like your parents, Sirius, Remus and Tonks each left an impression on you and your soul that can’t be erased.  You’ll always have that but isn’t the thought that a piece of them, a similar version, still lives an uplifting feeling?’_

_‘Parents?  So both my parents are alive here?’_

Harry swore in his head at the silence to his question.  He had a feeling that Death was playing with him and it was something that was already driving him crazy.

“So what shall we call you?  I was thinking Edward or Bartholomew.”  Sirius jested happily shooting his two companions a wide grin as they continued their track through the forest.

Feeling the tension dissipate slightly from Sirius’s simplistic joke, Harry returned Sirius’s smile.  “I’m Harry.” 

“I’m Sirius Black and my stoic yet brainy friend next to you is Remus Lupin.”

After weakly exchanging pleasantries the trio fell into a comfortable silence, until Harry broached a subject that had been gnawing at him since he first met Tom.

“Can I ask you guys a question?”

Harry noticed that Remus’s shoulders tensed slightly but Sirius either didn’t notice or care as his eyes lit up in excitement. 

“Sure go for it.”

“Well I noticed that some of the Order didn’t have proper wands and when I gave Seamus a wand he was completely shocked.  From his face it looked like I offered him his weight in gold.”

“I don’t blame the lad.”  Sirius chuckled as he ducked under a low branch.  “I’m guessing you’ve not been in Britain much.”

Not wanting to lie Harry opted for a twist of the truth.  “No.  This is the first time I’ve been here.”

Seeming to believe him Sirius nodded sadly but instead of him answering it was Remus.

“Before the war everyone used to have their own wands.  It was a tradition for kids to get their first wands at eleven just before they go to Hogwarts.”

“Hogwarts was a magical school on the other side of Hogsmeade.”  Sirius butted in to explain while Harry played ignorant nodding his thanks. 

Not liking how Sirius used the past tense to describe Hogwarts, Harry fleetingly pushed the query to the side for another time.  From the sounds of it, wands were treated the exact same here as his world yet something had to have happened to have effected so many people.  “So what happened?”

“There was only one wand maker in Britain and just after old booger brains declared war he vanished.  Nobody knows what happened to him but all of his wares disappeared along with him.”

Remus’ lips twitched in amusement before turning to Harry.  “He means He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.”

Despite finding Sirius’ nickname for Voldemort comical, Harry frowned hearing his account; he had befriended Ollivander when he became his student and hearing that he was probably dead hurt.  “What about the Knights though?  They’ve got proper wands.”

Remus raised an eyebrow at his question making Harry instantly review his words to make sure he hadn’t given too much away.  Thankfully he replied anyway.  “The other side imported a wand maker from overseas and has him outfit the Knights and important officials.  Nobody but purebloods are allowed to buy or hold wands so it makes it very difficult to purchase wands.”

“Yeah.  But who cares if he made it illegal for us to hold a wand.  We are all criminals in his eyes anyway, may as well have a wand to defend ourselves eh.  Although it can be hard getting wands as we’ve got to steal them from deliveries or defeated Knights.”  Sirius admitted as they finally emerged from the sparse forest that surrounded Hogsmeade and onto a small cliff where an old muggle radio was waiting for them.

Harry was used to seeing old muggle trash being used as portkeys but this took the cake.  The faded radio was chunky and brown with large dents covering its case.  From its age Harry could easily tell that it wouldn’t work anymore and the only use it’d get would be something like this.

Temporarily accepting the shortened story Sirius and Remus gave him, Harry started walking towards the radio but stopped at a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

“Wait…how’d you know we weren’t using proper wands but the Knights were?”  Remus asked suspicion evident in his golden eyes.

“I could tell from the wands the Knights used that they were in excellent condition and paired well but the Order isn’t so lucky.  Take Sirius for example.”  Harry said turning towards the surprised animagus.  “He has an Ash wand with a phoenix feather core in his left robe pocket.”

“H-how…?”  Sirius stammered uncharacteristically as he reached into his pocket and withdrew a grey wand. 

Harry just shrugged in reply.  “May I?”

Sirius looked conflicted before hesitantly handing over his wand.  Harry could tell that Remus had withdrawn his but dismissed it knowing that he wouldn’t attack him if he didn’t give him a reason.  Being careful not to make any fast moves Harry slowly reached out and grabbed the wand. 

With only a few moments of examining the Ash wand, Harry handed it back to the exceptionally grateful wizard who looked greedily at the wand in his hand.

“You need a new wand and soon.  Ash is one of the few wand woods that should never be acquired from a previous master as it quickly loses power and skill.”

“But it is difficult to get a new wand and I won’t be able to get my own personal wand.  Besides Dumbledore told me that Ash wands are very powerful.”  Sirius said stubbornly as he cradled his wand in a similar fashion one would hold a baby.

Grinning at the amusing scene Harry shook his head.  “In general Ash wands are good wands but only when paired with their proper owners.  Sooner rather than later the wand will stop working altogether and it could cost you dearly.”

Harry hated seeing the depressed look on Sirius’s face but he tried to tell himself that it is better this way.  Sirius can now take steps to make sure he isn’t in a dangerous situation without a properly working wand.

“How do you know all this?”

“Because I’m a wand maker.”  Harry answered turning around to face Remus.  “I was apprenticed to…a great man in Europe and now I’m on my own.”

Not knowing what else to say that would explain his knowledge of wand lore, Harry opted for the next best thing and it apparently was the right thing to say.  At his job title both Remus and Sirius gawked at him not unlike Seamus earlier before morphing into identical and elated grins.

Without further warning they each took Harry’s shoulders, and as a group all of them reached out and grabbed the portkey.

 

**

 

**Harry J Potter – Headquarters of the Order.**

Having expected something like the grim and drab Grimmauld Place as the Order’s headquarters Harry was shocked to appear in a spacious Entrance Hall comprised of beautiful white stone; it seemed to sparkle like Christmas lights as the sun streamed in from the numerous windows above their heads.  From the stone to the high ceilings and columns he saw around the first floor he knew that this was a manor from a very important family.  For if Malfoy Manor was the epitome of evil elegance than the peaceful feeling of this home was the equivalent for the good guys.

Without saying anything Remus gave Sirius a pointed look before briefly waving at Harry and dashing off into the manor as Harry admired the stone floor; that was so highly polished it acted as a mirror, reflecting his overwhelmed expression. 

“Come on, Harry.  I’m sure they’ll be expecting us, Dumbledore will already know you’re here.”

Collecting himself Harry followed after Sirius as they trailed lazily after Remus.  “So where exactly is this?”

“Beautiful place isn’t it?”  Sirius chuckled.  “It belongs to one of the Order’s members who were good enough to offer it up as headquarters; once the Longbottom Ancestral Manor and now the home of our little resistance.”

“Longbottoms?”  Harry blurted out as Sirius led him to a white marble staircase with portraits plastered over the walls. 

“Yeah Frank and Alice Longbottom.  They’ve been a part of the Order all their lives.”  Sirius said as he dragged Harry up to the second floor. 

As he made his way up Harry stared at the portraits of his good friend’s family.  At first look he wasn’t sure he could connect Neville with any of the Longbottom ancestors stuck on the walls but upon further inspection he noticed Neville’s nose on Lord Longbottom who apparently died in 1733 and Neville’s round face on Jaqueline Longbottom 1818 - 1920.  In fact Harry had been so focused on scrutinizing old Longbottom family portraits that he didn’t realise Sirius had stopped at the top of the stairs until he barrelled into him.

Harry launched into an apology as his face began to grow hot but thankfully Sirius wasn’t offended and just waved it away with a cheeky grin.  Trying to distance himself Harry looked at the large bronze door Sirius was standing in front of.  He assumed they arrived but he wasn’t sure why Sirius wasn’t opening the door and suddenly looking unsure.

“Look just before we go in I want you to remember that this isn’t an interrogation.  They’ll just want to ask you about…well…you, Hogsmeade and why you helped Seamus.  Just be honest.”

He didn’t know what to say in reply because Death had made it clear that he _shouldn’t_ be completely honest, at least for now, which means he’ll have to carefully walk the fine line between keeping himself safe and not directly lying.  Silently cursing Death for what felt like the eighth time in twenty four hours, Harry gave a nod to Sirius and waited for him to open the door.

With an encouraging pat on the shoulder, Sirius opened the door.  Inside was an elongated room with only a long mahogany desk with cushioned seats furnishing the room, but it was the other end of the table that had grabbed Harry’s attention.  Sitting at the far end of the room from left to right was a tall frail looking man with loose and saggy skin, Amelia Bones and of course Albus Dumbledore.

Harry wasn’t sure who the man was but he knew Amelia Bones fairly well from his world.  She had been the Head of Law Enforcement for the Ministry during the war and was the aunt of his old classmate Susan Bones.  Unfortunately Amelia had lost her life defending her family from Death eaters who raided their home.  While it was sad that she died, she had managed to take down the seven Death eaters that attacked her and ended up saving the rest of her family.  Although their meeting had been brief Harry was proud to have met such a strong and courageous woman.

As he cautiously took a seat with Sirius claiming the one next to him, Harry couldn’t help gaping like an idiot at Dumbledore.  The Albus Dumbledore he knew had a long white beard, was rarely seen in normal looking robes preferring to mix unflattering colors and seemed to always have an annoying twinkle in his blue eyes.  This Dumbledore was not his mentor.

This weary man had a short grey beard and plain Gryffindor red robes, but perhaps the most startling was his dull eyes that seemed to radiate sadness and loss.  Regardless of the pain he saw on the Dumbledore before him, he offered the pair a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Good morning Sirius and Harry.”

“Good morning Albus.”  Sirius smiled in return snapping Harry out of his critical assessment of his mentor’s double ganger and offering his own greeting to the panel before him.

“I’m sorry if you feel first names are a bit forward of us Harry but I’m afraid I don’t know your surname…”

“Peverell.”  Harry replied filling in the blank for Dumbledore whose smile widened a fraction.  “And I don’t mind if you call me Harry, in fact I prefer it.”

Even though he could tell that Dumbledore, Bones and Sirius were all pleased by his attitude it wasn’t just about being easy going and forthcoming with them.  He naturally preferred being Harry to Peverell as he is more connected to his actual name and as such he couldn’t stumble or forget Harry.

“Excellent…Harry then.”

“Must we draw out this charade Albus?”  The man at the end of the panel barked out his beady eyes fixed on him as his frail hands tightened around the quill in his hand poised over a large scroll of parchment. 

At the snippy tone of the unknown man a low growl bounced around the room’s high ceilings capturing Harry’s attention.  Kicking himself for not spotting the creature when he first came in, Harry watched as Dumbledore calmed a large golden crup sitting loyally on his left with a gentle pat on the head.  From lessons in Care of Magical Creatures with Hagrid, Harry knew that other than being loyal to one wizard and supporting a deadly forked tail crups were excellent at sensing ill-will in people; judging from the heated glare it sent to the elderly wizard, the third member of the panel may have to be watched carefully.

“Of course Benjy.”  Dumbledore politely conceded with a nod before turning back to Harry.  “We have already been briefed by a handful of our trustworthy agents about what they witnessed in Hogsmeade but I’m sure you understand we have questions for you Harry.”

Not sure if he believed a handful of reports had already been delivered as Harry, Remus and Sirius had left most of the Order’s forces in Hogsmeade, Harry cocked an eyebrow before letting it go.  “Of course, please ask anything you wish.”

“Let us start with the basics Mr Peverell.  Where are you from?  I have not heard of your family before and from the way we’ve heard you fight I would have assumed that you would have come up on our radar before now.”  Amelia Bones stated evidently taking his suggestion to ask anything to heart in order to cut to the chase. 

“My name is Harry Peverell and while my bloodline once called Britain home, it has been a few generations since we’ve been here.  My family moved around a lot so I understand you haven’t heard of me as we rarely stayed in one place long enough to get comfortable.”

‘Benjy’ snorted.  “What a convenient story…one that answers your question Amelia whilst ensuring we can’t double check anything he spits out.”

Harry noticed Sirius tense out of the corner of his eye at the insulting tone from the panellist. 

“You are here Benjy Fenwick as a representative of the Order so I suggest you act a _tad_ more professional.”  Bones cautioned the man beside her with her grey eyes promising pain that clashed horribly with the kind smile on her face.  Seeing Fenwick temporarily cowed must have soothed her enough as she turned back to Harry.

“Thank you Mr Peverell.  Now we’ve been informed that you cast some extremely powerful magic without the use of a wand in today’s battle.  Where did you study magic?”

Harry wasn’t sure if she was asking about magically repairing some of Hogsmeade’s buildings unknowingly in front of the Order or the shield he conjured in front of Seamus but he supposed it didn’t really matter.  Knowing that Hogwarts wouldn’t be taken well, Harry reluctantly created another lie.  “I was taught magic by my parents growing up so if you’re asking about formal education I haven’t really had any.”

Again Fenwick interrupted with a derisive snort but Harry was happy to see he kept his focus entirely on the parchment before him as his quill raced across it.  If Fenwick was getting more irritated as the moments passed by, then Harry was certain Dumbledore was becoming more and more amused.  When he entered he could see the strain the war was having on him but now he somehow looked younger and his eyes were a lot warmer.

“Thank you Mr Peverell.”  Bones repeated as Harry saw Fenwick murmur something to himself as he aggressively crossed something out with his eagle feather quill.  “I-We heard from Mr Lupin that you are a wand maker?  Is this something you learnt from your parents?” 

Deciding to ignore the ass next to Bones, Harry opened his mouth to answer when Sirius stood up and banged his fists onto the table glaring darkly at the elderly Fenwick across the room.

“Do you want to say that loud enough for everyone to hear Fenwick?  Or do you prefer hiding behind your parchment like a coward?”

If glares alone could inflict pain, Harry was sure that Fenwick would be a melted into a blob from Sirius’s intense scowl that marred his usually happy face.  He didn’t know what Fenwick had said but it was enough to cause Sirius to snap and his nostrils to flare like a pissed dragon.

“You’ll have to excuse Benjy’s lapse in judgement Sirius…” Dumbledore said softly looking apologetically at Sirius.  “I’m sure he, like everyone else here, appreciates all you have lost in the pursuit of serving the Order.  Isn’t that right Benjy?”

Benjy’s eyes opened in panic staring down at Dumbledore as his shaky fingers lost their grip on his quill.  “…err…yes of course Albus…I was only meaning to say…that under the circumstances…” 

Seeing the target of his rage embarrass himself as he tried to save face must have calmed Sirius somewhat as he slumped back into his seat looking rather smug.  This look only increased when Bones turned towards the stuttering man looking ready to explode. 

“Just apologise you buffoon.”  She barked as her face twitched dangerously.

Harry felt somewhat saddened when Fenwick gave Sirius a half-hearted apology before hiding his face behind a new scroll of parchment.  He would have preferred the man to challenge Madam Bones’ frustration levels as he had seen what the woman could do with a wand and had a feeling that whatever he said would’ve justified it.

“Getting back on track.”  Bones said as Dumbledore turned to coo at his crup that began waving his forked tail around at an alarming speed.  “I believe you were about to explain to us how you became a wand maker Mr Peverell.”

“I was apprenticed to a family friend who was exceptional at the trade.  I studied with him for a while before he acknowledged my skill by promoting me to Journeyman.  That was when I decided to visit Britain and see the land of my ancestors.”

Again Harry felt guilt whirl up inside him as he walked the difficult path of speaking the truth and lying to the good guys.  While he hadn’t formally been promoted to Journeyman by Ollivander before he left, it was something his master kept insisting they had to talk about but Harry always came up with an excuse.  If he was he’d have to travel the world learning about different types of wand making, studying different magical creatures for the possibility of new wand cores and making connections with contractors that could deliver quality goods.  With Teddy needing him to stick around it was something he couldn’t do and therefore he’d rather remain an apprentice for the time being.

“I thought you told us that you’re a wand maker not a Journeyman?”  Sirius exclaimed looking rather puzzled. 

Harry just grinned as dejavu struck him again at just how similar the two Sirius’ he had met in his life were.  The expression on his face was the exact same one his godfather had when Remus struck him with the confundus charm in retaliation for turning his hair green during his fifth year.  

“I said that I was apprenticed to a master and that I was now on my own, both of which are true.  But from very early in my apprenticeship, I have been making wands.”

“How old are you _boy_?”  Fenwick croaked apparently having gathered enough confidence to re-join the conversation. 

Having to take a few deep breaths from cursing the infuriating man, Harry calmed himself to answer the question.  “Eighteen.”

A victorious yet predatory grin arose on Fenwick’s face as he stated his age.  “Aha!  You see Albus I told you that this was a farce when Lupin barged in with his report.  It would be impossible to achieve the level of Journeyman in the complex field of wandlore at that age.  We should either force feed the blighter veritaserum to find out who he really is or lock him in the…”

“What can you tell me about Aspen, Ebony and Pine wands Harry?”  Dumbledore asked interrupting Fenwick with ease as though he hadn’t just been ranting.  Harry could tell that Fenwick wasn’t pleased with being ignored, especially as Dumbledore kept his gaze fixed tightly on him instead of Fenwick’s hesitantly raised arm like a student desperate for a teacher’s attention.

Seeing nothing wrong with responding the odd question, especially if it helped people believe his career path, Harry answered Dumbledore’s question.  “Well Aspen wands are white and fine-grained, usually well known for their outstanding charm work, while Ebony wands excel in both combative and transfiguration magic.  Pine wands on the other hand are great for those who experiment with magic as they are usually creative wands and adapt to new spells and techniques very quickly.”

Dumbledore hummed softly as he gave his companion one last scratch behind its pointy ears before offering him a soft smile.  “Indeed Mr Peverell.  I wonder if you would be kind enough to explain to us the process you’d undertake to match these wands to appropriate owners.”

Harry frowned not liking the unsteady feeling he was getting.  It seemed that no matter the dimension he was in Dumbledore would excel at shaking the earth beneath people’s feet.  A sound strategy that he was sure Moody would appreciate but it was one Harry didn’t like. 

“Why?”  Harry asked.

“Humor an old man young Harry.”  Dumbledore requested with an encouraging nod to get on with it.

Interpreting Dumbledore’s words to mean as he was being tested and to hurry up, Harry squared his shoulders ready for the challenge.  “Even though Aspen wands are very good at charms the appropriate wielder of such a wand is a skilled duellist with talent in martial magic.”

“I thought Aspen wands were only good for light magic.” 

Harry frowned at the question Sirius asked who suddenly acted sheepish rubbing the back of his neck.  “What?  We were taught at the Academy that wands were affiliated with light, dark or neutral magic with some being stronger than others.”

Hearing the seriousness in Sirius’ voice, Harry laughed heartily at the very idea but seeing it was making Sirius uneasy, he bit the side of his mouth to shut up.  He knew that from whatever Fenwick said before Sirius was already uncomfortable and he didn’t want to make him feel worse by laughing at his genuine question.  However, the idea that wands were either light, dark or neutral was equally hilarious and crazy.  Wands and even magic itself didn’t work like that.  In the wrong hands any wand could cause devastation just as easily as a severing charm that was taught to second year Herbology students could be used to kill. 

“What’s the Academy?”  Harry asked feeling Sirius relax slightly beside him as the conversation moved away, even briefly from his question.

“When Hogwarts fell to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named those who didn’t follow his practices or were naturally his enemies were lost as our children still needed to learn how to control their magic.  To fix this Headmaster Dumbledore setup the Academy for any muggleborns and half-bloods the Order had managed to save from the current government and Knights.”  Bones explained.  “It is under powerful protective magic and is run by several trustworthy Order members.  Naturally the children of the Order also attend the school.”

 _‘Makes sense with Hogwarts lost to Voldemort that they’d have to find another way to teach the next generation.’_ Harry thought sadly to himself.  Hogwarts had always been his home growing up where he was free from the Dursleys and got to learn about magic in the same place his parents did.  Even though they managed to save Hogwarts and the Wizarding World in his dimension, it couldn’t protect it in other places.

“I see.  Well I’m not sure who is teaching that at the Academy but no wand is inherently good or bad.”  Harry smirked realising he was echoing a past lecture he endured from Ollivander.  “They each have skills or leanings towards certain areas of magic but any of them could go into the world for good or evil.  Like Hawthorn wands can be excellent for healing in certain hands but their curses can be deadly.”

Seeing Dumbledore now beaming down the table at him, Harry shifted in his seat and returned to Dumbledore’s original question.  “As I was saying about Aspen wands, depending on their core of course, they are ideal for charms and duelling but often find pairing with strong willed and determined duellists.  Ebony wands are perfectly matched with wizards and witches who hold strong to their beliefs and to themselves.  Then there’s Pine which my old master often said was destined to go to those fated with long lives.”

Silence hung in the air before Fenwick finally lowered his hand, perhaps finally realising that nobody was going to call for his opinion, and opened his mouth.  “Again I beg for you to consider that this could all be a trick Albus.  After all anyone could study those facts and claim to be a wand maker, for all we know we’ve brought a Knight into our headquarters.  He should be in the dungeons with the rest of his filth.  Now as I mentioned in last night’s _full_ Order meeting, I have found a perfect supply of wands from an _actual_ wandmaker in Paris.  All it would cost, aside from my cut for finding her, is one hundred galleons per wand.”

At first Harry had been amused by the loose skin under his neck that jiggled as the man spoke, but he couldn’t help flinching as his speech grew more hate filled and greedy.  The man was in the middle of a war with allies improperly armed and he was primarily concerned about flipping a profit.  Normally Ollivander sold wands for about seven galleons and here Fenwick was suggesting a hundred per wand.  Getting ready to stand up and defend himself Harry was surprised when Sirius shot out of his chair again with his face contorting in barely concealed fury.   

“Need I remind you Fenwick that we didn’t just drag the first person into the headquarters from the street claiming to be a wand maker.  We saw him fight off numerous Knights with barely a sweat and now you want us to throw him in the dungeons to rot like those he fought?”

It may have been inappropriate but Harry smiled up at the man next to him and relented that Death was right.  Knowing that Sirius, in any world, would have his back was a comforting thought.  Although as Sirius’s anger quickly faded away revealing a rather Slytherin smirk, Harry wasn’t sure if old Fenwick would have a similar thought in a few moments.

“Why don’t you give him your wand Fenwick?  If he is a real wand maker like he says he would be able to tell you about it, wouldn’t he?”

Harry’s grin widened as an angry flush rose up Fenwick’s neck to his splotchy face.  He’d always knew that Sirius was a very smart man from some of the complex spells and inventions the marauders had created in their time at Hogwarts, but this was priceless.  Fenwick couldn’t really back down from the taunt without losing face as if he refused to help he would appear weak and if he did offer his wand there was a chance he’d be proven him wrong.  Something that Sirius knew he could do as he had not long ago analysed his own wand.

“Fine.”  Fenwick spat placing his wand before Dumbledore who sent it down the length of the table to Harry with an amused expression. 

As the wand made its trip Harry could already tell that it was a Fir wand of decent make with a unicorn tail as its core.  Harry was happy to see that this wand, unlike other non-Knight wands, was in heathy condition with no sense of breaking down.  While this might appease some, he knew that he would need more if he wanted to dissolve any doubts about his character.  With that in mind Harry reached out when the wand stopped in front of him and started checking the wand. 

When he was done he placed the wand onto the table gently as though it was made of glass and turned to its owner who had been drumming his fingers against the table impatiently.  “Mr Fenwick rather than tell you about your wand itself, I’m going to reveal what I’ve learnt about you _from_ your wand.”

Fenwick grunted dismissively obviously doubting his ability but from the nod Dumbledore sent down to him and the way his ex-Headmaster’s double ganger moved to the edge of his chair in interest, Harry assumed he could continue.

“Mr Fenwick you received your wand many years ago but it wasn’t at the age of eleven.  You haven’t had an easy life as you have, at least once, been in mortal peril.  You are a survivor.  In regards to your magic, you are an average wizard but your skill has always leaned towards Transfiguration magic.”

Again silence reigned over the room making Harry uncomfortable and start to mentally review his wand lore in case he made a mistake until Dumbledore released a low chuckle.

“Fascinating…I find myself curious how you came to those accurate and surprising conclusions Harry.”

Releasing the nervous breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, Harry smiled over at Dumbledore.  “Identifying the wand wood and core wasn’t a challenge and I could see from examining it that it wasn’t showing any signs of misuse.”  Seeing the confusion evident on their faces Harry rushed on.  “Most wands, especially those with unicorn hair, will only work for their original owners and if forced to by another they would lose power or the core would die.  I could easily tell that the wand was in fine working order meaning that it had always been partnered with Fenwick.”

“What about him being a survivor?”  Sirius peeped up beside him sending dubious looks to the angry man beside Bones.

“Fir wands usually only pair themselves with survivors, someone who has or is fated to escape mortal peril.  And the rest about his magical skill set is rather obvious as all Fir wands regardless of the core are great at Transfiguration.”

At the end of his explanation, Fenwick gathered his supplies awkwardly in his arms, waddled down to Harry and snatched his wand from the table before stomping out in a huff.

“Well Mr Harry Peverell I believe I have a job for you.”  Dumbledore said happily looking like a different person from the one that had been sitting in his place when Harry first walked in.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to leave a kudos and comment below to let me know what you think. 
> 
> Also I'm still running the poll to hear what you think about possible relationship for Harry. Should this fic be Harry solo, Harry/Draco or Harry/Someone else.


	4. A Wand for Sirius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius takes Harry to his new workroom as the Order's first wandmaker. It is there that Harry helps Sirius move on and get his first proper wand. A few days afterwards Hermione, Ron and Neville meet up to discuss the Order and the unknown wandmaker.

**Harry J Potter**

From what he learnt so far Harry wasn’t stunned that Dumbledore was asking him to be the Order’s wandmaker but in reality he was hardly a master and creating wands on such a scale would not be simple.  As Harry let Dumbledore’s job offer wash over him, he felt a sharp jab to this side.  Turning to the offender, he saw Sirius give him a rather pointed glare.

With a giggle knowing that Sirius was getting impatient for his answer and turned back to Dumbledore he formally accepted the position.  However if he was going to do this, he had concerns that needed addressing.

“…I’m assuming from the wands I’ve seen of the Order you need wands straight away?”

Dumbledore nodded.  “Unfortunately only those of the Order who undergo missions against Voldemort have wands that we’ve been lucky to intercept.  It would be very advantageous to have them, or at least as many as possible, properly outfitted before the next planned mission in two weeks.”

Harry couldn’t help groaning at that.  Two weeks wasn’t much time to find resources, create the wands and successfully match them to an army.  “I don’t suppose you’ve also liberated some wand wood or wand cores in your missions?”

“Actually Mr Peverell over the years we have amassed a sizeable collection of both wand wood and cores.  Perhaps Sirius would be kind enough to escort you to check on them before taking you to your new workroom.”  Bones replied before turning to Sirius.  “I believe we’ve kept those related items in store room 1C right next to Edgar Longbottom’s statue in the dungeons and the study on the third floor will do for his workspace Sirius.”

“If you need anything from us Harry please ask someone to pass on a message, we are only too happy to help.”  Dumbledore added on grinning at them. 

Recognising the dismissal for what it was Harry and Sirius stood, gave their farewells and left the study.  Once again standing on the other side of the study’s door, Harry sighed in relief as he felt the fresh air that wafted around the hallways caress his face helping to slightly invigorate him after that meeting.

“Wasn’t so bad was it?”  Sirius chuckled straightening his robes. 

Harry frowned playfully in return.  “I’ve had worse experiences.  But I could imagine better things to do than deal with that Fenwick bloke.”

Even standing a few paces away from Sirius, Harry could hear his teeth grind together at the mention of the other wizards name.  While there was no doubt that Fenwick was a jerk he wasn’t quite sure it justified the scrunched up pain on Sirius’ face.

“You’re not alone there.”  Sirius admitted darkly.  “He is basically our supplies manager.  Everything from our food, clothing, wands, gold for bribes, books and potions are brought in by him and his department.  However, as good as he is at his job he’s even better at being an ass.”

Just before Harry could ask what Fenwick did to be on the receiving end of his wrath, Sirius cleared his throat and changed the subject.  “Come on, I’ll show you to your rooms first.”

Without further ado Sirius strode forward down the corridor.  Seeing that Fenwick was more of a sore subject than he realised Harry readjusted the bag on his shoulder and followed after the moody Sirius.  Having a gut feeling that Sirius wouldn’t want to talk, Harry let his mind wander. 

‘ _Death?’_ Harry called out in his mind not sure how this mental communication worked between them.  ‘ _Death are you there?’_

“I am here Master.”

Harry was supremely pleased that Sirius was walking ahead of him and that the corridors had been deserted so far as he’d jumped a foot in the air as a teenage boy materialised next to him.  Like in his earlier forms, Death wore his trademark smirk and long flowing robes that looked to be made of darkness rather than any cloth he’d ever seen.

“What are you _doing?”_   Harry panicked whispering as quietly as possible whilst his eyes darted between a blissfully unaware Sirius and a sniggering Death.

“I do believe I’m walking Master.”

Harry frowned darkly noting that despite Death’s expressionless face, his milky brown eyes were flashing in amusement.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it!” 

“Did you say something Harry?”  Sirius called back as he directed them up another flight of stairs.

“No…no.  I’m good.”  Harry swiftly responded.

“I wouldn’t worry Master.  The only person who can see me or hear me is you at the present time.  So what can I do for you?”

‘ _I’m here with the Order and I’ve just been made their wandmaker.’_ Harry revealed with a headache forming in the back of his head.  He didn’t like talking mentally like this, but he didn’t want Sirius or anyone they passed to think he was delusional. 

Death however seemed to approve at his relying on thought communication as he offered a knowing smirk and an approving nod before replying.  “I am aware Master.  There was a very high chance of this probability; in fact it is why I gave you that shoulder bag.  Inside I’ve placed items you’ll need for your craft, a potions kit, a cauldron and supplies and even some of the wands you created for Ollivander.”

Harry turned to his deathly companion and raised a curious eyebrow but Death only shrugged.  Having only been in contact with Death for a short time he wasn’t sure if he could be trusted or if he was playing some kind of joke but he highly doubted all of that was inside his bag; like Hermione did to her beaded bag during the war, spells could make his shoulder bag weightless and bottomless but those weren’t the reasons he was dubious.

_‘What are you talking about?  I checked the bag during my first night at the Leaky Cauldron and there was nothing in there.  Are you sure you gave me the right bag?’_

It may not be a smart practice to be snarky to Death but judging from the way his smile never faulted, the troublesome entity didn’t mind his attitude.  In fact if the way his shoulders were moving he was probably silently laughing at him.

“Ah Master.  While I could have placed secrecy spells over the bag that would electrocute anyone trying to open your bag, it seemed like a poor idea if I wanted people to trust and like you.  So I used a different spell to hide the bags contents.  The bag will be empty until you personally call for something hidden within.”

During Death’s explanation, the trio had reached the third floor and Harry gawked around at its splendour.  While the third floor corridor’s polished marble flooring, soft yellow curtains and ornate detailing screamed upper class wealth, the aura that seemed to emit from the walls gave a lovely feeling of love, trust and warmth that surrounded him like a cosy blanket.

Letting his mind wander as Sirius led him closer to his workroom and past sets of closed doors, Harry was left to reluctantly appreciate Death’s clever thinking.  His way not only would keep his secret but didn’t hurt anyone else if they tried tampering with it.  As they reached their destination they stopped and Harry sensed Death vanish from his side.

“Here we are.”  Sirius called out dramatically throwing a door open.  “Welcome to Peverell Wands.”

A thrill of excitement ran through Harry at the thought of having his own wand shop, although it was undercut slightly by the fact it was under his false persona.  Pushing that aside Harry went around taking in his new ‘store’; arched windows, that stretched high up into the rafters, streamed a large amount of light across the workroom, and like every good workroom the floor was comprised of polished timber.  From working with potions at Hogwarts and studying with Ollivander in his entirely wooden workroom, he knew that polished and charmed timber was excellent for flooring as it could be easily and cheaply repaired  or cleaned even by magic standards.

At the back of the workroom was an adequately sized bedroom with lovely mahogany furnishings and even a bathroom of his own.  All in all Harry was very grateful being assigned these accommodations, knowing that it could’ve been worse thanks to his experience at the Leaky Cauldron.  Content with his living quarters Harry walked back out to Sirius who was standing in the middle of the spacious room. 

“Not bad is it.  Although you might wanna get some of the house elves to dust up here for you, as they normally don’t clean the workrooms unless asked.”  Sirius explained as his silvery eyes darted around at the grimy curtains and the dust that hung in the air.  “Sooner rather than later would be a good idea, I’d be surprised if they’ve been in here since Abercrombie…she was our potions mistress until a few months ago.”

Harry wasn’t entirely sure who Abercrombie was or what happened to her but he didn’t think he should push.  Instead he attempted to steer the conversation away whilst mentally adding another question to ask Death.  “What were you saying about house elves?”

“Mopsy!”  Sirius called out rather than directly answering his question.

Instantly a small house elf appeared by his side with large expressive brown eyes and a contagious smile.

“Master Sirius calls for Mopsy?”  She gushed out as her eyes locked in on Sirius.

“Yes I did Mopsy.  I was wondering if you could get some house elves and clean up this workroom…oh and if someone could bring up all the wand cores and woods from the dungeon storage room 1C I’d really appreciate it.”  Sirius requested with a charming grin.

Harry stared dumbfounded as the house elf giggled in response as a warm blush sprinkled over her pale complexion before bowing and vanishing with a small pop.  He had never seen a house elf blush before yet Mopsy nearly flushed more than when Ron did in their sixth year anytime someone mentioned Hermione.

“I’d _really appreciate_ it Mopsy.”  Harry mocked when Sirius turned his way before laughing at Sirius’ almost proud look.

“It’s hardly my fault that I attract everyone in my vicinity, is it?”  Sirius countered puffing his chest.  “People like me are just cursed with good looks and magnetic personalities.”

Harry could only laugh harder as Sirius launched into a lecture on why woman love his hair and courageous men.

Only when the boasting finally subsided and Harry’s ribs started aching from laughing so much, did they briefly fall into a companionable silence.  Harry drank up this happy moment and placed it carefully in his mind as fuel for future patronus charms.  Even the silence that hung between them was nice and soothing; some silences could be awkward and tense like in their earlier meeting with Fenwick but ones like this between him and Sirius were somehow a calming balm.

“I suppose I should go…gotta hunt down Remus but I’ll be back to help you get settled in.”  Sirius promised before spinning around and heading for the exit.

It was that moment when he saw Sirius about to walk out when it struck him.

 “Hey Sirius.”  Harry called out as Sirius reached for the door handle.  “I was wondering if you’d like to be the first one fitted with a wand?”

A giddy excitement ran through Harry at the thought of fitting one of his first wands to his godfather…or at least his godfather’s double.  Unfortunately when Sirius turned back around biting his lip with an odd lock of elation and concern waring for dominance over his face, he knew the first future owner of a Potter wand wasn’t as gleeful as he was.

Remembering the wand Sirius had shown him back in Hogsmeade, some of the pieces started to fit together.

“Who gave you the wand Sirius?”

Sirius’ face cleared of all emotion as the question was levelled at him.  For a second Harry wasn’t sure if he was going to answer but sure enough the dog animagus hesitantly opened his mouth.

“M-my Uncle Alphard.  I’m not sure what you know of the Black Family but they are all evil so when I ran away and choose the Order I was pretty much alone…I’m not sure how he did it but U-Uncle Alphard managed to smuggle me a wand just before I left saying I would need it to s-survive and have a good life.  I’m not even sure how he knew I was planning on leaving…” 

Harry’s heart broke seeing the unshed tears swimming in Sirius’ eyes.  It seemed that just like in his dimension, Sirius’ uncle was probably the only Black on his side.  It was sad to think of family turning away from someone as great as Sirius, he knew he deserved better.

“Do you still keep in contact with him?”  Harry asked fearing the answer.

Sure enough, Sirius heavily shook his head.  “No.  My cousin Bellatrix somehow found out that he gave me a wand and had him exposed for treason.  H-He was killed on my twelfth birthday.” 

Seeing Sirius in such pain Harry walked over to him and rested his hand on Sirius’ shoulder as a couple of tears ran down his face.

“I’m not suggesting you get rid of it Sirius but we are in a war.  It can be very dangerous using a random wand; it could blow up or even redirect your spells to a friend on the battlefield.”  When Sirius didn’t move or acknowledge him, he quickly thought of a compromise.  “Why don’t you use the wand your Uncle gave you as a backup, a secondary wand, and allow me to find you one that’ll match you perfectly.  That way he’ll still be with you taking down the Knights.  Besides I’m sure your Uncle would want you safe.”

He knew using the memory of his Uncle, the one decent Black, like that wasn’t nice but he _really_ didn’t want Sirius blowing himself up through stubbornness.

Sirius sniffled.  “Okay.  I spose you’re right.  When will you have your first lot of wands ready?”

Trying to keep his victorious smile at bay Harry laughed.  “How about right now?”  Seeing the confusion override Sirius’ sadness he explained further.  “I brought some wands with me when I left home from when I was working with my teacher.  I’ve got dozens of wands you can try.  We might not find you the perfect wand straight away but I’ve got a good feeling that your ideal magical conduit is in my bag.”

“Wow…let’s do it.” Sirius crowed whipping his face with the sleeve of his robes with an excited grin.

Without further ado Harry moved into the center of the room and placed his bag down on the ground so he could riffle through it.  Remembering what Death said about having to call for what he wanted, Harry opened the bag’s flap and stuck his hand inside.  Harry strained his mind trying to remember a wand that Death would’ve placed inside that could be paired with Sirius.

 

 

**Sirius Black III**

Sirius watched as Harry stuck his hand into the black and grey knapsack and closed his eyes in concentration.  At first he didn’t like the idea when Harry had held his wand and said it didn’t match him.  He’d come to love the last thing his Uncle gave him before he died as much as the man himself and it hurt when Harry said the wand didn’t like him. 

He could remember Lily a few years ago saying it wasn’t healthy to transfer the love he had for his Uncle to the wand but at the time he’d just laughed away her concern.  Although now he got what she meant. 

After what felt like hours Harry meandered over to him and held out a beautiful pale yellow wand.

“Here you are Sirius, its Dogwood, Dragon Heart-string, 11.5”and rather bendy.  Terrific for charms…in fact it’s a bit of a jokester’s wand.” 

Having never been fitted for a wand before, Sirius just stood there feeling like an idiot not sure what he was meant to do. 

 _‘Is something meant to happen?  The wand feels fine…’_ Sirius thought to himself moving the wand around in the air wanting to get a better look at it.  However at a casual flick of the Dogwood wand, Sirius could feel it start vibrating in his hand before it suddenly expelled a large pink and green dust cloud.

Sirius coughed as he squeezed his eyes tightly closed and covered his mouth and nose to prevent any of the magical dust cloud from getting in any sensitive areas.  Thankfully he wasn’t forced to endure the wands tantrum for long before Harry had banished the cloud and yanked the offending wand out of his grip. 

“Sorry about that Sirius.  I thought seeing as you’re a bit of a joker and like having a laugh you’d be best suited for a Dogwood wand but I was wrong.”  Harry sheepishly replied as he dove back into his bag. 

Sirius attempted to snort in reply but the effect he was going for ended up slightly more humorous than he wanted as a couple of tiny tufts of emerald and pink powder flew out of his nose.  Harry cackled like a mad crone at seeing that and it turned contagious as Sirius himself had a small chuckle at his own expense.  He wasn’t sure what it was but the more time he spent with Harry the more he felt connected to him in some way.

He didn’t have very long to ponder that line of thinking as Harry had already selected the next wand for him to try. 

“Give this a go…it shouldn’t be as dramatic and funny as the last one.  This one’s Ebony, Phoenix Feather, 11¾”.  Just give it a wave and see what happens.”

Ignoring the amusement on Harry’s face, Sirius took the shiny dark wand and grabbed firmly onto its rose colored handle.  Instantly an incredible warm sensation ran through his arm and into his chest where it blossomed and grew in strength.  He had never felt anything like it in his life.  The only time he had felt something even close to this was when the Potters had publically announced him as their son. 

“Give it a wave Sirius.”  Harry repeated with a glint in his emerald eyes.

Not sure he liked Harry developing the Dumbledore glint, Sirius followed his directions anyway.  He lifted the Ebony wand high in the air before bringing it down in an elaborate arc.  Streams of multi-colored light shot out of his wand with a bang.  Sirius watched in glee as the different lights curved and raced across the room. 

Sirius could hear Harry cheering as the lights finally hit the workroom staining the ceiling, the glass windows and the one wall that separated Harry’s bedroom from the workroom in a barrage of color.

“Congratulations Sirius!  You’ve got your prefect wand.”

He gave Harry a massive grin before turning his attention back to his new wand.  While his old wand would always hold a place in his heart, his Ebony wand was something even more special and all his.

 

 

**Hermione Granger**

 

Hermione Granger was sitting quietly in the Longbottom Manor library with three large stacks of books on the table in front of her.  Even though she had finished her education at the Academy she was desperate to get through Mad-Eye Moody’s field training exams as quickly as possible.  It was standard practice in the Order that when someone graduated from the Academy, they were to join one of the Order’s departments and strengthen the cause.  Which meant she still had a lot of practical and theory to revise.

She had contemplated becoming a potions mistress or healer for a time but she knew deep down in her soul that it wouldn’t have given her the fulfilment she craved.  She wanted to be a hero like the agents before her.  When she was eight and accidently levitated her toy dinosaur into the air, her family were attacked by Knights who had been tasked with tracking underage magic and ransacking muggleborn’s homes.  That night she had lost both her mother and father to the Knights, and if it hadn’t been for the Order she wouldn’t have made it either.  Just like those heroes had risked their lives for her, she wanted to be able to do that for others.

Unfortunately Mad-Eye Moody’s training was exhaustive and thorough, so unless you showed particular skill, tenacity or generally impressed him it often took two years to get through it; Fred and George Weasley were already into their third year of the training program because they kept stuffing around and making jokes. 

She had just finished reading a fascinating paragraph on the use of transfiguring ones environment for strategic advantage when a large hand touched her shoulder.  Instantly abandoning her book Hermione’s hand swiftly released her dagger from the hidden scabbard on her hip and twirled around to imbed the blades’ edge against her attacker’s throat.

“Err…Hermione?”

As the uneasy voice reached her ears and the battle haze fell from her eyes, Hermione gasped as she took in her best friend with her dagger resting dangerously close to his jugular. 

“Ron?”

Feeling guilty by his hesitant nod Hermione quickly released her hold on him and secured her dagger back on her hip.  Sensing the danger was over Ron shuffled over to the table and took the seat opposite her as he eyed the mass of tomes she had assembled.

“I-I’m so sorry.”  Hermione murmured glumly as she robotically retook her seat.

“Was that really necessary Hermione?”  Ron inquired with a heavy sigh.  “That is the third time this week you’ve pulled that dagger on me.”

“Well…what do you expect Ronald?  You sneak up on me and with our training I’m obviously not going to hug you.”  Hermione defensively shot back knowing it was a weak excuse.

Ron and Neville were two of her best friends and since she started training with Moody her nerves had been highly strung.  Moody had asked his agents in their down time to jump out at her and her fellow recruits with various different weapons whilst screaming about constant vigilance.  While her friends always waved away her apologies she could tell that they were concerned.

“Why would you ever wanna hug him?” 

Hermione turned her head to see Neville leaning against the library doors with a smug smile.  She felt her heart flutter as he walked confidently towards them as his bright red robes billowed magnificently behind his muscle bound figure.  Over the last few years Neville had really changed by bulking up and practising self-defence which had the effect of honing a new self-assurance that she secretly thought was rather attractive.  She knew though that the extra training was an effort on Neville’s part to appease his parents that he’ll be okay when he became an agent.

As Neville sat beside her Hermione couldn’t help but chuckle at his joke, causing Ron to fold his arms across his chest petulantly.  “Yeah…yeah.  Let’s all laugh at the redhead.  Why don’t we just get down to it?”

Faster than lightening Hermione marked the page she was on and placed the book on the nearest stack.  Once a week they would all meet in the library and review any Order business Neville had managed to overhear.  As his parents were high ranking members of the Order and his family’s manor acted as headquarters for it, he was often in a position to gather a lot of privileged information.

“Alright, calm down Ron.”  Neville calmly told their redheaded friend trying to appease him.  “I’ve got some good news and some bad news.”

Hermione rolled her eyes at the brunette’s weekly game.  Neville seemed to get a big thrill at either making them guess what information he had overheard or the good news/bad news game that usually had one of the options as a common rumour. 

“Just spit it out already Nev.”  Ron groaned obviously sharing her annoyance.

Rather than get upset Neville just chuckled but it seemed rather forced.  “Well the bad news is that Octavius Pepper was captured by the Knights yesterday.”

“Oh no.”  Hermione whispered bowing her head in grief an action mimicked by her two friends seconds later.  Octavius Pepper was the Order’s best warder and was charged with creating and maintaining wards on numerous Order sites, including Longbottom Manor.  Although they never saw much of him as he was usually busy running around from base to base, he was a gentleman and had even gone out of his way to teach them basic wards after they graduated from the Academy.

“Does the Order reckon he’s alive?”

At Ron’s tentative question Hermione looked to Neville hoping for some sense of uncertainty at the very least but she sighed sadly when he shook his head.  “One of the spies reported he was captured by that Quirinus Quirrell and bloody Bellatrix Malfoy.”

As unpleasant as it was to concede, if Pepper had been apprehended by Quirrell and Malfoy he was almost certainly dead or at least in some kind of endless torture.  They were both as ruthless and crazy as each other and for that reason most of the Order’s agents wisely avoided them.

“How’s Narcissa?” 

Neville flinched hearing the name of their newest Potions Mistress.  “Not well.  Mother was telling me last night that she insisted on visiting Pepper’s family herself and telling them the news.”

Hermione nodded knowing it sounded like something the woman would have done.  Narcissa was a lovely woman who had turned her back on Voldemort and the Knights in fear of what would become of her and her son.  She had never liked the regime and only fell in line because of the compulsion potions her family had been giving her for decades.  By the time she had managed to fight them off and escape with her son, she was no longer a child herself and Hermione was sure she felt like she had a lot to atone for.

While many would’ve tried to dissuade Narcissa Black from going to console Pepper’s family, Hermione could at least understand why she felt she had to.  She had once been married to a Knight and her deranged sister, who had married her ex-husband a week after their divorce, was one of the Knights responsible.    

“What else have you got?” 

Shooting Ron a grateful look for changing the subject, Neville took a breath before starting on hopefully better news.  “Seamus was found in the Leaky Cauldron a few days ago with the last basilisk egg.”

Hermione felt a rush of relief hearing that one of their childhood friends had made it past his first mission safely.  She had been very concerned when the raiding party returned without him, only to be promised by Moody himself and they’d get him back no matter what.

“If he’s been back for days, where is he then?”  Hermione asked before Ron pipped up in agreement.

“Yeah, I would’ve thought he’d have tried bragging to us at least once by now that he was the first of us chosen for a mission.”

“Nope.  He’s been under watch in the infirmary by Lady Potter.  Apparently an unknown had found him in Hogsmeade and turned his shoes into a portkey to the Leaky Cauldron.  Rather than send him to the bar on the first floor, he was ported straight into the heavily warded door of someone’s bedroom.”

“So he’s back but not okay?” 

Neville snorted and waved his hand dismissively.  “Nar Ron he’s okay.  I heard from Lady Potter herself that he was fine, she just wanted to make sure that some of the stronger wards didn’t cause any long term effects to his magical core and organs.”

Hermione felt better hearing that report from Lady Potter.  She had been one of the most skilled healers in the Order for decades and had been one of the only ones sent on the occasional mission.  If she said that Seamus was fine and just under observation she knew it was the truth.  However, there was something else about Neville’s report that didn’t sit right with her.

“What do you mean an unknown sent Seamus to the Leaky Cauldron?”

The term ‘unknown’ was one of the fifty-four terminologies taught to potential agents in Moody’s training course and is used to identify an untrustworthy human or being with questionable affiliations.

Obviously sensing the concern in her voice Neville just gave her a grin so wide she was certain someone had magically doubled its size.  “That’s just what Mad-Eye called him but I seriously doubt Dumbledore and Bones would let an unknown work for the Order.”

“He’s here…working for the Order?”  Ron blanched.

Instantly Hermione’s mind whirred into action trying to deduce which role a previously declared unknown could offer the Order.

‘ _Spy is the most obvious but rather unlikely if Moody distrusts him.  Working on recruitment and resource management is just as unlikely as he could cause real trouble there if he was really working with the Knights against them.  But Bones would never let him work as a healer or potions master without proving himself or going through the training.’_ Hermione thought to herself at record speed.

“Perhaps he is one of the safe house guards?”  Ron suggested.

Hermione acknowledged it wasn’t a terrible guess as the safe houses always needed guards and Dumbledore had just opened a new one in Scotland that would primarily house muggleborns and their families.  However it like many of Order positions required an element of trust, something that unknowns rarely received straight away. 

‘ _Whatever he’s doing he must be really talented.’_ She surmised giving up on narrowing down what he was doing.

Neville smirked cockily.  “He’s the Order’s first wandmaker.”

 


	5. Narcissa Black and the Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry starts slipping into the role of wandmaker as he helps find the wands for another two Order members. Unfortunately for Harry his responsibilities are not over, for he isn't just a wandmaker but the Master of Death as well.

Harry J Potter

 

The moment Sirius left with a cocky smirk and a spring in his step, Mopsy returned with eight large crates that had ‘Wand Stuff’ written across them in messy red script.  As three other house elves appeared to help Mopsy clean up the workroom, Harry went and inspected his new wares.

Unfortunately it turned out most were as useful to wandmaking as a niffler would be in Quidditch.  The first four were filled with damaged or dead wand cores all thrown haphazardly in together, knowing that they would have to be carefully destroyed Harry moved them over against the far wall.  Crate five was obviously packed by a professional as inside were a variety of freshly harvested woods with stasis and weak hovering charms over them, this ensured they didn’t jostle into one another and become damaged.  The last two had phoenix feathers and unicorn hair inside respectively all of which were useable but some were clearly better than others. 

Harry was just about to start selecting the first wood to treat and shape into a future wand, when a small hand yanked on his jeans.  “Master Peverell?”

Looking down Harry noticed that Mopsy was standing awkwardly next to him rubbing her long, thin hands together nervously.  Having flashbacks of Dobby, Harry knelt down so that he was eye level to the scared looking house elf and offered her a comforting smile.

“You can just call me Harry if you want Mopsy.”

Instantly Mopsy covered her head with her hands and started shaking negatively.  “No Master Peverell, Mopsy is house elf and only bad house elves call Masters by first name.”

“I know that you’re not a bad elf Mopsy, it’s just that Master makes me feel awkward.”  Harry comforted before trying a different tactic.  “Besides I don’t think that any race is better than another.  You are a magical being just like me.”

Mopsy’s face dropped and her massive brown eyes started to water.  “Does Master Peverell really think this?”

Seeing her eyes start to water Harry started panicking; he didn’t want to upset her, he just didn’t like being called Master.  “Err…yes I do.”

“Oh Master Peverell is such a good wizard…so good to Mopsy.”  She wailed grabbing onto his forearm as tears rolled down her face.

“Mopsy _please_ stop…”  Harry begged looking around at the other three house elves who were looking around at the sound of her blubbering.  When Dobby died saving their lives in the war Harry had missed his small friend terribly, but to have another Dobby-like house elf cling to him was helping settle some of those feelings.

Thankfully before they could get too close and hear why Mopsy was crying, said elf released his arm and took a step back. 

“How about we make a compromise Mopsy?  You and the rest of the house elves can call me Master like good house elves but you have to use my first name.” 

With tears still welling in her eyes, Mopsy started bouncing on the heels of her feet.  “Oh Mopsy and Longbottom house elves can do that Master Harry.  Just like wes do for Mistress Lily and Master Sirius.”

“M-mistress Lily?  She…err…likes being called by her first name as well?”  Harry asked feeling a renewed rush of interest in this topic.  Growing up he never learnt much about his mother as he wasn’t lucky enough to meet any of her friends, besides Remus and Sirius, so he could learn about her the same way he learnt about his dad.  The only real information he knew about his mom was that she was a skilled potioneer and hated his dad until their seventh year.  Now maybe he could add creature’s rights to that list.

Mopsy nodded her head.  “Oh yes Mistress Lily is a great witch.  She bees getting all house elves birthday presents and looks after us when wes sick.”

Hearing Mopsy praise his mother like that made Harry feel so incredibly proud of her and getting to be her son.  He so badly wanted to leave the workroom hunt her down and spend some time with her.

‘ _Although you know that she isn’t your actual mother, right?’_ A snarky voice piped up in the back of his mind obliterating his elated mood.

“Thanks Mopsy.  Did you come over here for anything?”

“Oh yes Master Harry.  Mopsy bes seeing that Master Harry does not have furniture.  Would Master Harry like some from the storage rooms?”

Harry blushed looking around his room, realising that there wasn’t much inside.  He’d been so interested in the wand crates that he forgot he would need a few things as he couldn’t make wands on the floor.  “Yes please Mopsy.  I’ll need at least two wooden desks, one of which should be fairly large and a couple of wooden bookshelves please.”

Promising to return with his requested furniture Mopsy vanished leaving her companions to finish cleaning his chambers and workroom in her absence.  Barely a second had passed before his workroom door burst open and a victorious Sirius charged in dragging two peeved bodies along the floor behind him.

“Back already?”  Harry asked trying to get a look at the magically bound people his godfather was hauling around like luggage. 

“I told you I’d be back but this is purely business Harry.  I want you to help get a wand for my cousin and friend.”  Sirius beamed at him ignoring his captives.

“Any reason you had to use the body-bind curse on them and magically drag them along the floor to get their first wand?  Did they not want one?” 

“Oh they want one alright.  I mean, Remus here has been using a wand we nicked from a Knight a few months ago and Narcissa hasn’t had a wand for a while now.”  Sirius revealed pointing to each body respectively. 

‘ _Wait…cousin…Narcissa?’_ Harry thought to himself as he added up the clues in his mind and swearing as he reached his conclusion.  ‘ _Shit.  That means that either Narcissa Malfoy is a spy working for Voldemort or she didn’t go evil in this world.’_

Regretfully realising he couldn’t make a move either way until he had more information; Harry summoned his wand and released both of them from Sirius’ magic.  Faster than a muggle bullet Narcissa was up off the floor and with one long stride had reached Sirius and slapped him across his face.  The force of the slap not only sent a crack echoing around the room similar to apparition but it had effectively stunned all three men in the room.

“SIRIUS BLACK IF YOU EVER ATTACK ME FROM BEHIND AGAIN I’LL MAKE SURE YOU LIVE TO REGRET IT!  HOW COULD YOU WHEN YOU KNOW MY HISTORY!!  YOU _BASTARD_!”  Narcissa screamed her usually calm face screwed up in rage with her eyes wide and deadly.  Harry was sure that if anyone had the ability to send curses out through their eyes it would be Narcissa.

Harry watched, unsure if he should jump in and help Sirius, as his godfather’s double paled and his grin had drifted from his face the moment Narcissa started screeching.  Electing to follow Remus’ example, who had moved from the floor and stood next to him quietly, Harry remained still letting Narcissa continue her rant.

“I-I’m sorry Cissa.  I didn’t realise….”  Sirius apologised weakly as his cousin broke down and tears ran down her thin face.  “…I was just so excited about getting my first real wand that I wanted to share it with you.  We all know how hard it was for you when they snapped your wand.”

As the two continued to spar back and forth, with Narcissa sniffling through her threats as she calmed down and Sirius shifting between apologising and comforting, Harry turned to Remus in an attempt to give them some privacy. 

“How are you doing Remus?  Thought you would’ve caught up with us when we finished the meeting.”

Remus just shrugged his wide shoulders.  “I’m fine thanks Harry and that was the plan but I remembered that I needed to get a potion from Narcissa and stayed to chat a while.  That was where I was when Sirius barged in and attacked.  It was odd…I tried to shield myself from his spell but for some reason it went right through my shield.”

Harry nodded not being surprised by the turn of events for Remus.  “It’s actually pretty common Remus.  If one side of a wizard duel was in harmony with their wand and their opposition was using a stolen wand, the fight would be very one sided.”  Although the more he thought about it the more his certainty waned; it would make sense that Sirius’ spells were stronger but to actually completely ignore Remus’ shield was another thing entirely.

Pushing the question to the back of his mind, Harry turned back to the conversation.  “If you used your wand Remus, what happened to it?”  He knew there must be more to the story if the only wands in the room he could sense were his and Sirius’.

Remus only snorted and pointed to Sirius with his chin.  Harry just gave an understanding smile as the werewolf’s amber eyes rolled manically around their sockets in exasperation.  He had no issue believing that Sirius would’ve gotten so caught up that he’d have forgotten about leaving Remus’ wand behind in the ambush.

Harry didn’t bother hiding his amusement from Remus who only offered a playful glare in reply.  The more time he spent with this Sirius the more connected he felt about the one he lost; he may never be his Sirius but it’s nice to know that somewhere there’ll be a Sirius taking jokes too far and unable to understand boundaries.

“Oh…here we go.”  Remus whispered nodding to Sirius and Narcissa.

Following the direction of his nod, Harry witnessed Narcissa giving Sirius one last hard look before turning around focusing her eyes on him.  She looked rather elegant with her shoulders back, her head up high and her sleek black robes that fell around her form perfectly.  For a moment she didn’t speak but rather chose to look him up and down appraisingly, as though searching for some hidden truths that were secretly written on his person.  Taking advantage of the situation, Harry opted to do the same.

Now she was facing him properly he could see that she was very similar to the Narcissa Malfoy he remembered during the war.  She had the same hard blue eyes that could send fear into a Hungarian Horntail and was just as tall and pale as he had last seen her, but there were noticeable changes; the Narcissa of his world had long blonde hair that always seemed to be tied up and walked around with her pointed nose in the air, whereas this woman had straight black hair that ran down her back and came off as more humble than the other Narcissa.

“Narcissa Black.”  She greeted formally holding out a skeletal hand for Harry to shake, which he did quickly fearing her earlier wrath could be directed to him instead of Sirius.  “My cousin has informed me that you’re a wandmaker.”

 _‘…Narcissa Black not Malfoy.  Damn, that just gives me more questions.  Does that mean she didn’t marry Lucius Malfoy and if that’s the case perhaps she was closer to Sirius growing up and he swayed her to the good side.’_ Harry mused trying to solve the puzzles as they were quickly thrown his way.  Realising from Narcissa’s expression that he’d taken too long to reply he cleared his throat and quickly rectified the issue.

“Harry Peverell.  It’s nice to meet you Miss Black.  And to answer your question, yes I’m a wandmaker.  Although I’ve not got much of a collection of finished wands at the moment as I’ve only just been given some supplies to work with.” 

Narcissa nodded her head in understanding as her eyes darted around the spacious room and each crate in the vicinity.  “Would you prefer us to return when you have some wands for us to try?”

Despite the Slytherin mask adorning her face coupled with her calm tone, Harry could see hope flaring behind her blue eyes. 

“Yeah Harry we can return if you can’t help us just yet.”  Remus agreed sheepishly from his right fiddling nervously with the hem on his robe’s cuff.

“I may not have a wide collection of wands for you to try but that doesn’t mean you won’t find one with the ones I do have prepared.  So who’s going to go first?”

Without a moment to consider, Remus bowed his head and graciously suggested that Narcissa should go first.  Harry just smirked to himself as he beckoned Narcissa forward, Remus always the gentleman.

“I do apologise but I overheard the fate of the last wand you were partnered with.  I’m sorry for your loss.”  Harry stated solemnly before moving to collect his shoulder bag from its place on the floor. 

Narcissa’s face softened sadly as her shoulders tensed in equal measure.  Harry could understand her feelings as the action of snapping another’s wand was nearly the worst feeling the paired witch or wizard could ever feel.  If you took someone who had their wand snapped and examined their magical core you could see an actual wound across it. 

“Unfortunately escaping with my son from Slytherin Manor had its losses, one of which was my wand…I just couldn’t stand being there anymore and had to get free.  It was a Beech wand with a Dragon Heart-String as its core.”

Choosing to give Narcissa a moment as tears welled in the strong woman’s eyes, Harry cast a wandless and non-verbal levitating charm over his bag and had it hover in level with his chest for accessibility. 

‘ _Right.  Well…this’ll be interesting.  If Narcissa had been matched properly to a Beech wand then she is nothing like the Narcissa I know as she’d have to be open minded and tolerant.’_ Harry thought to himself trying to imagine the cold Narcissa who tortured Luna for hours during the war with such attributes.  _‘I’ll just stick with what I know about this Narcissa, she was a strong person for remaining true to her beliefs even though it went against her family and Voldemort and she was able to escape their clutches.  Perhaps a Cedar wand would best suit her.  Although if she is a potioneer, as Remus mentioned something about getting potions from her earlier, perhaps Walnut would match her intellect and magic better…hmmm’._

With his mind finally made up on the first wand he wanted her to try, Harry reached in to his bag and produced a handsome brown wand.  Moving over to the patient Narcissa, Harry handed it over and watched as she closed her eyes obviously feeling the wand’s power surge within.

“Walnut, Dragon Heart-string, 9.5’.  A rather rigid wand and best suitable for inventive magic.”  Harry stated for the room as with experienced ease as Narcissa raised the wand over her hand and brought it down.

_“Lumos.”_

Instead of the wand producing the trademark yellow light, a sickly green light slowly crept out before exploding, sending emerald sparks around the room.  Harry watched completely stunned as some of the sparks started igniting upon contact on the wooden floor.  Before Harry could quickly whip out his wand and fix the small fires around his new workroom, the Longbottom house elves abandoned their duties and started playing firemen.  After thanking the house elves for their fast interference, Harry took the wand from a now paler Narcissa and secured it back in his bag.

_‘Oookay so not Walnut.  However at least I found out from the excited green movement of the Dragon Heart-String that the core was correct, especially from a Chinese Fireball Dragon, would still suit her perfectly.  How about…’_

“Here try this Miss Black.”  Harry said producing a dark red wand.  “It’s a Red Oak wand, coupled with the Dragon Heart-String from a Chinese Fireball, 11" and great for duelling.”

As Narcissa took the wand in hand, Sirius let out a loud chuckle.

“Isn’t that the wand wood that suits people that can’t control their tempers?  No need to test it Cissy, it looks like Harry found your perfect wand already.”  Sirius teased bending over laughing whilst using a tired looking Remus as support. 

Seeing the Red Oak wand start twitching in Narcissa’s hand, Harry quickly jumped in to save Sirius from his own stupid mouth.  “No Sirius.  Red Oak wands are exceptional duelling wands because they are suited to owners with fast reaction times, that are quick-witted and adaptable.”

Now that Sirius was only weakly chuckling to himself, still somehow amused by his own joke, Harry turned his attention back on his unpaying customer.  “Please give it a wave.”

Harry carefully reached out with his senses as Narcissa lifted the wand into the air preparing to repeat her movements.  Just before she opened her thin lips to cast the light charm, Harry noticed that despite the happy glow of the wand core, the wood looked strained as though it was ready to split open any second.  Without waiting another second Harry swiftly yanked the wand out of Narcissa’s hands.

“Sorry Miss Black but this isn’t the wand for you.”

“But you didn’t let me try it.”  Narcissa complained her expression growing stormy.  “Master Wandmaker Gregorovitch would at least let us try wands before denying its compatibility.”

Harry started to giggle at the wandmaker’s name until he caught sight of Narcissa’s face.  He had heard of Gregorovitch from the war and of course Ollivander.  In his world Mykew Gregorovitch had been a reputable wandmaker in Europe, especially Germany and Russia, before Voldemort killed him.  Apparently in this world he decided on joining Voldemort instead of standing up to him.

“I’m sorry Miss Black but I did let you try the wand.”  Harry rebutted but continued as Narcissa’s confused albeit annoyed face persisted.  “From the moment you touch a wand it reacts to you and your magic instantly.  I could tell that the core is very suited to you but the wood itself wasn’t.”

Narcissa snorted raising her nose slightly higher in the air, reminiscent of the evil Narcissa.  “How could you possibly tell that?  There hadn’t been any magic cast through it so you had no idea how the core and wood would react.”

Before Harry could defend himself from Narcissa’s dubious beliefs, Sirius had jumped in and beat him to it.

“He can sense wand's magic.  When we first met he knew where I had my wand and what it was made from.”  Sirius explained excitedly pulling out the wand his Uncle gave him from a holster on his leg.  “He knew that the wand wasn’t suited to me, that it was an Ash wand and that it had a Phoenix feather as its center.”

Harry flushed hearing Sirius crow so happily about his talents.  While he was lucky enough to spend a bit of time with his Sirius, he often still wondered if his parents, Sirius and Remus would be proud of him and his life decisions. 

“What utter rubbish Sirius!  Did you ever consider the possibility that he used legilimency on you?  After all we both know how useless you are at the craft of mind reading and protecting yourself from it.”  Narcissa teased shooting an innocent expression at her cousin who suddenly developed a tick over his right eye.

“Are you suggesting that Harry here is a strong enough legilimens that he could fool Albus, Amelia and Fenwick?”

Harry watched in amusement as Narcissa looked back and forth uncomfortably between him and Sirius was though waiting for one of them to break and admit they were lying.  Growing tired of the game the two Blacks seemed to be playing Harry cleared his throat and once he got Narcissa’s attention he started.

“Dumbledore has in his possession a Phoenix feather, Alder wand that is excellent for non-verbal magic.  Moody has two wands but only one is suited for him and that is a Pine wand with a Dragon Heart-string core from a Ukrainian Ironbelly.  Bones had a Silver Lime wand of sturdy make with a Unicorn hair but it really wasn’t suited for her _at all_.  If you require more information about the wands I’ve encountered to prove my skills, I can describe some of the Order members I saw in Hogsmeade.”  Harry lectured calmly as the memory of each wand filtered through his mind.

Harry had never particularly enjoyed showing off unless it was on the Quidditch pitch but this seemed to be a growing trend from Order members to disbelieve his abilities.  Other than being incredibly annoying it could start becoming a problem if he allowed it to persist; if they wouldn’t let him create the wands they desperately needed someone could get hurt or they could refuse to use them thinking that they were improperly made and again someone could get hurt.  This was war not a time to be picky and snobbish about important resources.

Of course he knew it wasn’t a common skill so to a small extent he understood their disbelief, as he’d never heard of it until Ollivander started teaching him, but it was something he worked very hard to achieve.  Looking around at the group, Harry felt sure he’d strengthened his position as wandmaker in their eyes, which would hopefully spread throughout the Order. 

Narcissa was staring at him with all sense of decorum lost as her posture was now very relaxed and her mouth was hanging open nearly as wide as her astonished eyes.  Although she wasn’t the only one; Sirius was flitting between shocked and gawping whilst Remus seemed more confused than anything else.

“Harry are you saying that you can just sense wands around you and their characteristics?”  Remus asked with his eyebrows raised skyward as Narcissa and Sirius pulled themselves together.

Harry shrugged going back to digging in his bag for another wand for Narcissa to try.  “Yeah you could say that.  Sometimes I need to focus on an individual…other times I can let it go and get a sense of the magical artefacts in the area.”

“That’s so cool Harry.”  Sirius gushed stopping Remus who’d opened his mouth to ask another probably academically inclined question.  “That would be such an advantage in battle!  Is that how you beat all those Knights?”

Again Harry could feel the blush rise up on his face but this time he quickly pushed it down; it would look weird if he kept going red every time that Sirius praised him. 

“It helped.”  Harry admitted removing another wand for Narcissa to try.  “Try this please Miss Black.”

 

**

 

By the end of three long and tedious hours, Harry had been successful in finding wands for both Remus and Narcissa.  Narcissa had tried each and every wand he had with Chinese Fireball Heart-String as its core, before she luckily found her ideal pairing with a 11” Fir wand.  Despite all her other qualities it now made sense in his mind why she would be best suited for this wand as there was no doubt she was a survivor; she managed to survive under the thumb of a dark and depressing ruler for a long time, even though it fought against her beliefs, and then managed to fight her way out of Slytherin Manor and who knows how many Knights who wouldn't have gone easy on a traitor.

In the end Remus had been matched with a bendy 12” Holly wand with a Unicorn hair for its core.  Harry was glad that Remus was destined for such a wand as it is very skilled with defensive magic that would help keep him safe, and it has been known to help those with overcoming anger or conflicted natures; something Remus has to deal with daily being discriminated against as a werewolf.

Once he had managed to finally get some alone time, Harry sealed and silenced his outer door and headed back to his bedroom; during the wand fitting the sun had set and so had Harry’s energy levels leaving him yawning and anxious for sleep.   As he shuffled towards his bedroom, he admired the work the house elves had done along the way.  The workroom was now so clean it was almost like a different set of chambers; this illusion was helped by the furniture Mopsy had brought back for him which included two massive yellow couches and a lush looking recliner that Harry desperately wanted to try. 

Being too tired to start working on any new wands for the Order, Harry slumped onto his soft bed and let his body sink into its cosy embrace.   Just as the darkness claimed him a soft ghostly knocking filled the room, sending shivers down his spine. Harry bolted to his feet just in time as a figure dressed entirely in black phased through his wall a metre from his door.  Instantly recognising the intruder Harry slumped back onto his lovely bed groaning about never being alone and just wanting to sleep. 

“Good evening Master.”  Death said with a chipper tone that seemed to grate on Harry’s nerves. 

“It would be a good evening if you’d go and let me get some sleep.”  Harry murmured before getting up onto his elbows to address Death face to…someone else’s face.  Today Death was a tall waif of a man with no hair but dazzling white teeth.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you sleep Master, as I believe it’s our turn.”

Harry swore under his breath knowing that Death was once again playing with him.  He wasn’t sure why people like Draco, Snape, Trelawney and Death enjoyed pushing his buttons but it was going to make him snap; he just wanted a straight answer.

“Our turn for what?”  Harry bit out glaring harshly at the spectre hoping it conveyed his promise of finding a curse that would work on the embodiment of death.

Unfortunately Death only smirked wider as though knowing his thoughts of giving him a magical wedgie.  “The Order raided Voldemort’s forces for the Basilisk eggs and now it’s our turn to raid Slytherin Manor.”

Before Harry could utter a word Death reached out with his pale, cold fingers and ported them away in a flash of light.

 

**

 

Harry appeared in a narrow stone corridor with floating balls of green flame above his head only giving a limited amount of light, that made shadows dance eerily against the stonework. Glancing around at his new surroundings Harry was sure that he was deep underground somewhere as the damp smell of earth and despair assulted his senses causing him to summon his wand.  Harry was contemplating apparating back to his bedroom when Death finally decided to join him and materialised in front of him.

“Where are we?”  Harry muttered darkly at Death noting how his voice, no matter how soft, echoed along the deserted hallway.

Death turned his hauntingly pale face to him.  “I am unsure why you are confused Master…I’ve already told you where we were going back in your living quarters.”

Harry sighed.  He was so worked up about not getting to go to sleep and being taken without his consent by Death, he forgot that he’d been given a weak rundown.

“…and such a barrel of information it was.”  Harry snarked lighting his wand non-verbally only to freeze as the rush of warm light revealed an unsettling surprise.

“Death…”  Harry started trying to control his temper.  “…what am I wearing?”

Death looked him up and down and raised an amused eyebrow.  “Robes that befit your station Master.”

Harry closed his eyes and took calming breaths, telling himself that it wasn’t as bad as he thought.  Noticing his anger dissipate, Harry opened his eyes and took in his new outfit for a second time.  Gone were his own comfortable clothes, only to be replaced by silk black trousers and shirt over which hung a long ebony robe that was covered in silver and red runes.  The robe felt massive on Harry and he shivered in disgust as a horrifying thought struck him.

“Y..you changed _all_ my clothes.”

Death’s smirk remained immovable on his translucent face as his ghostly green eyes sparkled happily.  “Yes Master.  These robes will help protect your identity in this world and besides your other clothes are waiting for you back in your room.  Besides…I didn’t look.” 

Harry felt his embarrassment soar past the levels most people could survive enduring as Death started walking down the corridor chortling all the while.  Grinding his teeth together Harry took off after Death, his footsteps echoing loudly as he went.

The pair followed the winding stone passage until it opened into a massive cavern.  Harry felt sick as he looked around the chamber; lining each and every inch of the cavern’s walls were metal cages filled with bloody and beaten witches and wizards.

“You asked what we were doing Master?  Tonight our raid is a rescue.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a kudos and a comment below letting me know what you thought.


	6. Magical Cores

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Death takes Harry into the depths of Castle Slytherin on a mission to stop Voldemort's plans. It is this mission that not only shows Harry how evil Voldemort has become in this world and the devastation he has caused but it could drive a wedge between Death and Harry permanently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Please note that this chapter is a bit darker than the others and if you are uncomfortable with that or are too young to read about elements of serious violence, perhaps you should skip this chapter.

Harry J Potter

 

Harry could tell that most of the people trapped inside those metal cages were dead as their bodies were too badly disfigured for them to have survived their ordeal; some of the corpses were oddly crushed as though a dragon sat on them, others were extensively burnt and a couple looked like they were magical fused to some kind of magical bird.  Despite not knowing any of them Harry's heart broke a little on their behalf; nobody deserved to be captured and tortured like this.

“What happened to them?”  Harry asked looking around in horror not sure if he wanted to know the truth or not.  Just the thought of what those poor people would have suffered through was enough to make Harry want to simultaneously throw up and curse the torturer for days on end.  Voldemort and the Death eaters of his world had done some pretty insane and horrible things but this somehow seemed worse.

“They are all victims of experimentation.”  Death revealed walking closer to the prisoners and running his hand along their metal bars has he proceeded down.  “Professor Mafalda Hopkirk has been charged by Voldemort to study and manipulate a person’s magical core.  While this is a practice in most universes and can be important in fields like healing, it’s what they are choosing to do with that knowledge that has brought us both here tonight.”

Harry knew of Hopkirk from his universe as she had been the one to send him the official warnings from the Ministry, thanks to Dobby’s hovering charm and the patronus that saved his life, on behalf of the Improper Use of Magic Office.  While some may have held a grudge against someone who threatened to snap their wand and kick them out of Hogwarts, Harry knew that she was just following others orders; besides he got his revenge when they stunned Hopkirk and Hermione impersonated her so they could sneak into the Ministry and steal one of the Horcruxes.  It appeared that instead of going into administration, Hopkirk in this universe decided on a more crazy and dangerous career route.  What concerned Harry more than Hopkirk was what Voldemort and his lackeys would want with someone’s magical core.

“He’s trying to alter people’s magic?”  Harry asked unable to supress the sickening feeling in his stomach.  He may not know a lot about people’s magical cores but the concept of altering it, even sometimes for healing, was more offensive than snapping their wands.  International magical societies considered people’s magical cores as a gift from magic itself and something that shouldn’t be tampered with.

Death shook his head.  “No Master.  It is not just that he wants to alter people’s magic, he wants to influence it.  The magical core is different in every witch and wizard similar to the DNA in every human, not only does it house an individual’s magic but it also holds their ancestral magical skills and abilities.  Voldemort wishes to find a way to strengthen the magic of his armies, along with granting advantageous abilities like metamorphmagus, and remove it entirely from his enemies.”

As Death explained Voldemort’s sick plans, Harry swore under his breath as he ran a shaky hand through his hair.  He thought he was free from the horrors of Voldemort and warfare but it appeared as though it would never stop hounding him.  Not sure how to reply after being told something like that, Harry just gave Death a weak nod, before turning back to the nearest cage. 

Unable to stop his curiosity overwhelming him, Harry walked closer to the nearest cage that lined the wall and hesitantly peered inside.  Laying slumped against the cage was a man extensively covered in welts and burns, with his limbs bent at disturbing angles.  Harry’s heart went out to the man as he looked over his numerous injuries knowing that his death wouldn’t have been painless.

“He’s not dead.”  Death whispered in his ear having crept up behind him. 

Harry jumped in shock at having Death’s eerie voice and cold breath tough the back of his neck, before spinning around and glaring furiously as all of his earlier anger roared back to life in his chest.

“Don’t. Do. That.”  Harry demanded through clenched teeth.  “What do you mean he isn’t dead?  Every inch of his skin has been burnt and those welts look bloody and infected.  Once you add in the fact that all his limbs are broken and he hasn’t moved since we got here, it certainly seems like he’s dead.”

“Why don’t you take a closer look inside?”  Death suggested as he summoned a long wooden staff and began prodding one of the bodies further along. 

Wanting to scold Death for disrespecting a dead body, Harry swallowed his reprimand knowing that it wouldn’t do any good.  For all that being the Master of Death got him, it certainly didn’t give him any control over the being; if it did he would be back in his world spending time with Teddy, working with Ollivander and hanging out with his friends.

“I’m already having a closer look, why would I want an even closer look?”  He asked as his stomach dropped at a sudden realisation.  “I-is it someone I know?”

Death sighed looking over his shoulder at Harry with a pained look.  “Not going to make it easy on me, are you Master?”

Not really sure what he was meant to be making easy exactly, Harry just shook his head slightly disappointed that Death gave him a small smile.  While it wouldn’t be a great idea to piss of Death, a small part of Harry wanted to annoy Death as much as he seemingly enjoyed annoying him.

“The body in front of you is Gideon Prewett and he only looks dead because of the side effect of Hopkirk’s experiments.”  Death replied as he stopped prodding the bodies in the cages and walked calmly to the center of the stone chamber.  “He is alive…just…but he needs an expert healer to help him as he can’t hold on forever.”

Harry looked away from Death to the sad looking body in the cage.  He may not have ever met Gideon Prewett but he’d certainly heard of him.  Before the first war in his world Molly Weasley had twin brothers, Gideon and Fabian Prewett, who sadly lost their lives in a heroic battle against multiple Death eaters.  They were heroes and whether or not they were heroes here, they certainly deserved better than this.

While he didn’t know much about the Prewett brothers, he did know that Fred and George idolised them, especially when they were younger.  He’d heard once from Remus and Sirius that the Prewett’s had their own very successful business in Diagon Alley before the war, were independent and strong willed; from this Harry had a hunch that it was a combination of their Uncles and the Marauders that played a large part of how Fred and George elected to live their lives.

“If this is Gideon, where is Fabian?” 

“He’s being prepped by Hopkirk for extraction.”  Death answered casually as he started tracing a blue symbol on the ground with his staff.  The symbol was glowing a bright blue and throwing off so much magical energy Harry could practically see it dancing around Death’s complicated drawing.  However curious Harry was about the rune-like thing Death had drawn, it was his last comment that made him paler than Malfoy; it seemed that the more news he received tonight, the more shocked and sickened he was destined to become.

“W-what do you mean e-extraction?” 

Having completed his symbol, that Harry couldn’t recognise, Death took a moment to take a step back and admire his work with his chest puffed out proudly.  Not sure how Death would react to him walking up and waving his hand across his vision in order to recapture his attention, Harry loudly repeated the question without stuttering this time. 

Thankfully Death heard him as he looked over and his mouth curled into a grin.  “So many questions my Master has in his head.”

“Answer the question.”  Harry demanded his hand tightening on his wand.  “We need to get as many people out of here as possible…including Fabian before Hopkirk does something to him.”

Death straightened up at his order and clipped tone.  “Master, you do realise that you can’t save everyone right?” 

Harry opened his mouth to argue that they would be saving as many as possible when Death rose a hand to silence him.  “No Master.  This is a hard lesson for one such as you to realise but death isn’t something that is completely unavoidable.  During your years at Hogwarts and indeed during the war, you would always go rushing off to try save everyone; Ron, Hermione, Cedric and Sirius are just four examples.  In war, just as in life, people die but that doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s the end.  You above all should know that Master, as your whole life has been touched by death.  Besides, need I remind you that my job, also now your job, is to ensure balance between life and death?”

Hearing Death talk so serenely about the hardships in his life and in a tone that suggested he knew him well shattered Harry’s last nerve. 

“I am _well aware_ that war has death in it!”  Harry snapped his eyes a whirlpool of emerald fire.  “I have watched my family, friends, comrades and even enemies hurt, tortured and killed from it.  War is a plague and something I wish to _never_ see again!”

Running completely on anger and adrenaline, Harry lifted his wand and pointed it threateningly towards Death, using it to help drive home each point he made.  “But _you_ brought me here against my will.  I may not have your long experience Death but don’t you _dare_ belittle what I’ve gone through.”

Harry could feel his chest heaving as he finished his rant but ensured that he kept his eyes locked to the now stoic Death in the center of the room.  From the moment he met Death, the being had a weird, chipper and playful vibe about him, but now his face was blank and his ghostly eyes had lost their spark. 

“Fabian and Hopkirk are through the passage.”  Death stated monotone pointing to the door on the other side of the chamber.  “You must go and deal with Hopkirk…if you want to save Fabian you have less than three minutes and twenty three seconds before it’s too late.”

Putting aside how odd it was too not hear Death’s positive and cheeky replies, Harry took off running towards the grey wooden door.  As the chamber was a similar size to the Chamber of Secrets it had taken him longer than he wanted to reach the door, but when he got there Harry pushed it open to reveal a long and narrow staircase.  Without wasting a second Harry bolted up the uneven staircase, even as the smell of decay grew stronger and made him cough, he pushed on desperate to make it in time.  As he approached the landing Harry saw a wooden trapdoor covered in dried blood with a plain silver handle.

With his wand ready Harry pushed the heavy trapdoor open an inch and looked around, hoping not to reveal himself until he was ready; he had learnt the hard way from his fifth year that running in without some kind of preparation or thinking could be disastrous. The room was fairly bland for a secret evil workshop with a few bookshelves and tables positioned around the room with odd looking potions, gross ingredients and parchment covering their surfaces.  What caught Harry’s attention however were the massive metal cages in the middle of the room.  Sitting in the middle of the green room wasn’t just Fabian Prewett, but four cages each of which had a screaming witch or wizard trapped inside.  Standing over them and splashing some yellow potion over the cages was a skeletal Hopkirk with her frayed grey hair cut short and sticking up at odd angles.

“Very soon my friends we’ll begin and you’ll all be lucky enough to bring our Dark Lord’s order to the next level.”  She said with a sickly sweet voice, akin to the psychotic Bellatrix and cat-addicted Umbridge, as her future victims screams threatened to drown her out.  “You all are here to serve a great purpose after all.”

Seeing his moment arise with Hopkirk turning away from the cages and Harry’s hiding spot, he jumped out and quickly stunned the shocked Hopkirk with a flick of his wand.  With her neutralised Death’s warning about ‘dealing with her’ floated back to him.  He knew that he could hurt her as much as she had enjoyed hurting all those others she’d experimented on, but it didn’t sit right with him.  Besides there was another way to ensure that she would never hurt anyone ever again.

As the Elder wand helped focus his out of control magic, Harry walked up to Hopkirk and held his hand over her head. 

“ _Obliviate.”_

Harry watched as a pale green light flew from his hand completely eradicating her entire life’s memories as though they never happened at all.  Once the light naturally dimmed at the completion of the spell, Harry turned his attention back to the trapped witches and wizards before him.  He could see the fear in their eyes, not sure what to make of his sudden appearance, although that didn’t stop the begging from increasing in volume.  As he couldn’t afford anyone recognising him as Harry Peverell, he placed a small sleeping spell over the four, that judging from their hushed tones and droopy eyelids had taken effect immediately.

Once all four had fallen asleep in their cages, Harry mentally weighed his options of escape as he doubted any of them could now make it down the mangled staircase and back into the chamber where Death was waiting.  There was only one way that he could think of that would get them all out of their safely, unfortunately it wasn’t something that any sane witch or wizard would think advisable.  However, Harry knew that they couldn’t stay undetected forever in a Knight’s hideout where Voldemort was probably lurking.  With his mind made up Harry walked over to the cages and took a deep breath.  Not allowing himself a second to cast doubt on his plan Harry curled his fingers around the bars and apparated all four cages and their captives back into the main chamber with a loud crack.

As they reappeared in the main room, Harry collapsed on his knees gasping for breath; it felt like he’d been winded by a dozen bludgers during a Quidditch game.  Remembering how painful splinching could be, Harry swiftly looked himself over and briefly inspected the other four to make sure that nobody lost any body parts; he suspected that his sleeping spell wouldn’t hold against the pain of splinching but with his increased power levels he wasn’t sure anymore.

“Master you do not have time to rest.  The Knights are here and you must leave.”

Looking up Harry saw Death standing in front of the massive doors they had first entered through with his hands in his robe pockets.  While Death looked unworried, Harry saw the doors were being slightly pushed inwards by an unknown source and he could just make out different flashes of color around the door’s frame.

BANG!

BANG!

With each loud explosion signalling the Knights desperate attempts to get in, Harry could feel them echoing in his chest.  Realising that their time was up, Harry took a few deep calming breaths that Hermione had taught him during the war to focus ones thoughts for battle.  Awkwardly Harry hoisted himself up on his shaky knees, internally cursing whoever invented magical transport, and glanced over towards Death.  “How long before they breach the chamber?”

BANG!

“They won’t Master as my magic will keep the room secure as long as you are inside it.”  Death explained continuing his monotone speech pattern whilst indicating to the glowing symbol he drew earlier.

Feeling a bit more confident about being surrounded by Knights and probably their psychotic leader Harry focused on the next problem.  “Should I just port them out?  Or I spose I could try apparating…”

BANG!

“You will do no such thing!”  Death barked with his head trained forward on the randomly bulging door.  “Even with your additional power you couldn’t apparate thirty-six people across the country.  Besides you are horrible with magical transport.”

“Thirty-six people…”  Harry murmured.  He knew there were a lot as he had obviously seen them stacked together like books in a library but to hear the number was a little disconcerting.  He just hoped that the Order would be able to take in and heal all of them.  “…well how do we get them back?”

Without a single word being muttered, the rune on the ground started glowing brighter and brighter, it soon became clear that it wasn’t just glowing but the magic was spreading.  The warm magic seeped through the cracks in the stone ground until it reached every corner of the chamber.  A second later he heard multiple loud popping sounds like someone opening enough champagne to flood the Room of Requirement.  Looking over his shoulder Harry watched in stunned disbelief as within seconds of each other, the caged wizards and witches disappeared with a pop and a surge of blue magic.  Once everyone had gone and it was just Death and Harry in the room, the spirit finally turned his emotionless eyes onto Harry.

“I’ll be in contact soon.”

With that last message Harry vanished like the others before him in a flash of blue light.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys think :)

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think by leaving a kudos and a comment below.


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